In Medio Ignis
by KittenOfDoomage
Summary: Sequel to "Si Primo Venit". You will probably need to read that to understand anything that is occurring here. So Spike's still in Africe, and Buffy has started college, all the while wondering where he is. Faith is still in her coma, and Riley is around. So what will Season Four bring our plucky heroes?
1. This Fire Still Burns

**Disclaimer:** The work contained within is merely my playtime with the characters created by Joss Whedon and I in no way own any of them, or anything like that. Unfortunately. It sucks. But I'll just continue my plot to kidnap and clone James Marsters for myself.  
**Rated NC-17. **Just in case.

**This story picks up straight after the conclusion of "Si Primo Venit". You will need to read that first to understand most of this.**

* * *

**In Medio Ignis**

* * *

**This Fire Still Burns**

* * *

The sun was warming his skin as he stood ankle deep in the brilliant blue waters of the Pacific Ocean. He could feel the sand beneath his feet, and the waves broke gently on the coast, bringing with them the only sounds on the deserted beach. Their beach.

Spike smiled as he feel Buffy approach from behind him, wrapping her slim arms around his bare waist and leaning her cheek against his shoulder blade.

'It's nice out here.' She whispered. 'Quiet.'

'Is at that.' He replied, turning to face her, keeping her arms around his waist. She pulled back a little, looking down at his toned stomach.

'The view is nice too.' She said, bringing her eyes back up to meet his with a cheeky grin. He smirked back, sweeping his appraising gaze over her bikini clad body.

'Couldn't agree more.'

With a flash of movement, Buffy found herself in the water, spluttering as the vampire towered over her laughing. She scowled indignantly as he doubled over with mirth, then grabbed his ankle, sweeping him off of his feet to land on his back with a splash. Her scowl dissolved into laughter as the vampire flailed in the shallow water, his hair coming loose in curls over his forehead.

'Hey!' He said, looking exceptionally put out by the retaliation.

'You did it first!' She cried out, giggles escaping her. He lunged, and she dashed away, moving into the deeper water, Spike hot on her tail. She was waist deep down, and laughing so hard she couldn't keep up the pace. He was upon her in seconds, his fingers finding her sensitive ribcage and tickling her into submission. For long moments they fought for dominance, until both collapsed into the water, laughing hard.

The mirth dwindled from them and they clashed together, mouths meeting in a furious battle. Her hands wandered over his wet skin, and his followed suit. She needed to breathe, and broke away, bringing her palms up to frame his face.

'God, I love you.' He whispered.

* * *

_Somewhere in the Narobi desert, Kenya_

His agonised scream sound like her name in his head. But to anyone passing by it just sounded like pain. Pure, unadulterated pain.

Not that anyone was casually passing by in the desert.

The bugs were all over him, in him, crawling through his body like it was their own personal rat run. It was excruciating. He wanted to curl up into a ball and die, but the pain rendered him unable to move, unable to do anything but endure and hope he came out of the other end. When the bugs began popping through his skin, leaving bloody trail in their wake, he screamed harder, until his voice gave out and he slumped forward onto his front, too exhausted and torn apart to do anything but lay there and wait for death.

He didn't know how long his face was squashed against the cave floor; it felt like forever. But he felt his wounds knit, felt his bones mending, albeit slowly. After an eternity, he pulled himself upwards, blinking wearily at his surroundings, trying to remember how he got here.

It came back to him in drips; his quest, his journey...his Slayer. He was here for her. He had to persevere for her. How many challenges had there been? He couldn't remember anything but fire and pain.

'You have passed the required trials.' The demon's booming voice came from the darkness, followed shortly by his weird luminous blue and green eyes appearing. Spike could hear his tail swishing back and forth in the dirt on the floor. 'You will be given what you asked for.'

The vampire breathed unneeded air as he looked up, fairly sure he was looking at the demon. 'You'll anchor the soul? Makes me what she deserves?'

The demon might have nodded. Spike couldn't have told you - even his vampire vision didn't penetrate this kind of darkness.

'We will make you what was prophesied.'

Then his hand on was Spike's chest, and oh god, it burned. It burned with the ferocity of a thousands suns, sweeping through his dead skin and organs, lighting them on fire. Another scream erupted from his throat as the demon pulled away and Spike fell backwards.

And there in the darkness, he heard a beat.

And another.

And another.

A steady rhythm he hadn't heard for over three centuries began to play in his head.

It hurt.

* * *

He wasn't sure just how long he'd lain on the dirt, breathing heavily, sucking in greedy gulps of air. It tasted stale, and it tasted like death, but he needed it now. The demon was gone, or he thought it was. He couldn't hear or smell anything, and certainly couldn't see anything.

After long moments of trying to gather his wits together, he pulled himself up, wincing at the effort. It would have been nice if the demon could have healed him as well as bringing him back to life, but apparently it wasn't on his agenda. Neither was sticking to the boundaries of their agreement, apparently. He'd only asked for the soul to be anchored; he wasn't interested in being human.

Human was useless to Buffy. Human was liability.

Spike had never missed it, never wanted it back. He was a vampire and he was a damn good vampire, despite the lack of actually doing evil. He enjoyed being a vampire, more the point, and didn't want to be a sissy nancy boy again.

He stood, looking around and trying to stretch the soreness out of his joints. The majority of his wounds were closing, and it felt strange for a moment, as he looked down at his battered body. He felt...no different. Thumping heartbeat aside, he felt the same. Focusing inwards, he called out his demon and was shocked when he felt the bones in his face move, bringing out his true face.

What the hell had the demon made him in to?

He took a step forward, wincing when he stood on something sharp, and he looked down, seeing the discarded Gem that had granted him the sun. A small green Gem, apparently useless to him now. Bending down, he picked it up, holding it in the palm of his hand. This was too dangerous to be left lying around, even in the desert. If any other vampire got hold of it...

His palm closed around the Gem as he looked around, then put it in his pocket. He would have to take it with him, and hope he could find a way to destroy it. A brick would probably do, but he was slightly void of those right now. Best to keep it safe, then.

His demon mask remained in place as he picked his way through the maze of caves. He was hungry, and thirsty, and struggling to remember how far it was to the village he'd come from. He knew it was a couple of miles, and he wasn't entirely sure if he could make that, even if it did appear he still had the demon within him. He was so hungry he felt like he was going to be sick.

Sunlight suddenly filled his vision as he came closer to the exit of the caves and he sighed in relief, stumbling forward and hugging the walls. It hurt when he caught his bare skin on the jagged rock, but he shrugged it off, eager to get to the sunshine. Moving out into it, he smelt the fresh air, and the hot sun and sighed in relief.

He felt a bit better being out here.

'You know, even after having that ring for nearly a century, you're still white as a ghost.' A voice sounded from behind him, and he spun, shocked at the presence of another person in the middle of the desert.

Leaning against a four wheel drive truck, Whistler tipped his hat, and Spike squinted at him. 'What the hell are you doing here?' His voice was raw from dehydration and screaming. Whistler reached inside the open window of the vehicle and threw him a bottle of water, which Spike opened and drank greedily, letting ribbons of it spill down his throat and chest. He'd never tasted anything so good.

'Well, let's see.' The demon started. 'I got you to come to Sunnydale because, let's face it, Angel wasn't up to task. And boy did you do a fantastic job. Got yourself right in there, suffered in hell, saved the world.' He looked at the blond pointedly. 'Fell in love with Slayer and then left to anchor your soul for her. And a little extra on the side by the looks of it.'

'What of it?' Spike threw the empty bottle back at him, and Whistler caught it deftly.

'Nothing. You did good. You're on the right path. Trust me, if you hadn't been around, things wouldn't have gone so well.'

'Right.' Spike eyed the truck, and then looked in the direction he thought the village was in. 'So, are you here to just exchange words, or are you gonna give me a lift?'

Whistler turned, opening the passenger door of the truck. 'Hop in. Your journey's not nearly finished.'

* * *

'So I'm not human.'

'Not technically.'

'So what the bloody hell am I?'

'You're unique.' Whistler didn't look over at him from the wheel. They'd been driving for hours now, and although it had given Spike some time to sleep off his injuries and eat the small amount of food the demon had brought for him, he was now only hungry for answers.

'Unique? I've still got my demon, I'm fairly certain humans don't heal this fast but there's this pesky pounding in my head that I can't quite shift.' His tone was laced with heavy sarcasm and irritation.

'You're still a vampire. Still a reanimated corpse. You're just a little more...animated than most. And no more worries about that soul going anywhere.'

'What about Angel's?' Spike asked.

'And you're still concerned about the effect on others. That's what makes you different, Spike. Selflessness.'

'Oh, I'm plenty selfish, mate. Just don't want anything to hurt Buffy. Ever.' God he missed her. Just saying her name was like torture. He had to get back to Sunnydale.

'Buffy.' Whistler smiled. 'She's really missing you.'

Spike frowned. 'How long have I been gone?'

'About six weeks.'

He exploded. 'What?!' Shaking his head, he stared out of the front of the car in horror. 'I can't have been...no...god, she's gonna hate me.'

'I doubt that.' Whistler scoffed. 'Girl's head over for you, buddy. You just need to get your kiester back to SunnyD.'

Spike sighed. 'Gonna be a little more difficult than just getting home. I've no money. Whatever I had was destroyed by Fist'N'Flames, back there. Pretty much got my jeans and that's it.'

'Don't worry about it. I've got a room in the next town. We'll get you back to your Slayer, Spike, don't you worry.' Whistler looked over at him with a reassuring smile and then looked back to the road. His voice was low as he focused on driving.

_World kinda depends on it._

* * *

Buffy sighed as she dumped her last bag on the floor of the dorm room. She'd almost ended up with a crazy Cher-obsessed room mate, but at the last minute, Willow's double had freed up and Buffy had jumped at the chance to share with her best friend. The redhead was all excited about orientation and classes, and Buffy was struggling to muster the fun inside.

He'd been gone nearly seven weeks now, and she'd not heard from him in four. She was beyond worried. Giles had assured her that Spike was hard to kill, and she knew this, but it didn't stop her heart aching with worry for him. Her mom had been tiptoeing around her, as had her friends and she was sick of it. She just wanted him safe and wanted him home.

_'I'm coming back. I will always come back to you. Don't ever think I would willingly stay away from you for more than one second than I have to.'_

His voice echoed in her mind and she smiled a little, reaching into her suitcase and encountering the soft leather of her coat. He would come home. One way or another, Spike would come home.

She just wished it would be soon.

Her summer had passed slowly, and without significant events. Willow and Xander had tried to include her, but realised her moping would not end and eventually just gave up with nights at the Bronze and began coming over with icecream and mushy movies. When the mushy movies hadn't fixed it, they'd started on comedy, which had loosened her up a bit. Xander had been planning on a road trip around the states as he hadn't applied to college, but instead had been offered a carpentry apprenticeship with a local company. He'd accepted, keen to make his way in the world. He'd started around two weeks previous, and they'd seen less of him as a result.

Buffy had discovered one night that her mother and Giles had been meeting, secretly. Not to schedule her time anymore, but to address the blossoming attraction between them. When she'd come home one night from a brownie pig-out at Willow's house, she'd found Giles in the kitchen, wearing her mother's pink bathrobe and looking decidedly busted.

She hadn't asked. She'd just run.

Boy, could she not wait to get into the dorm. Knowing her mom and Giles were bumping uglies? Far too much information. Willow had giggled uncontrollably when she'd found out and Xander had gone a bit green. It was nice they'd found each other in all the madness that was the Hellmouth, but seriously? No one needed to see old people smooching. Ever.

Cordelia had left Sunnydale shortly after graduation. She'd been keen to make her way as an actress and so had gone to Sunnydale. Wesley had returned to England after being released from the hospital and Buffy was more than okay with never seeing him again. Angel had done his dramatic exit at graduation, and Buffy had received two phone calls from him to date. She'd been polite, but sensed his calls were merely to check up on her, and not as friendly as he made out. He never mentioned Spike, and Buffy quickly found that mentioned the blond vampire herself, made Angel suddenly have other stuff to do. Not that she took advantage of that fact.

There was one person who couldn't leave Sunnydale, and Buffy had spent most of her summer visiting her in the hospital. Faith was healed from all of her other wounds, but she wasn't waking up. The doctors had noticed increased brain activity, but nothing positive. Buffy spent her visits talking to the other girl, and holding her hand, hoping she would wake up a little less angry after everything that had happened. The Council had attempted to interfere, sending a nurse to watch the girl, but Buffy had quickly solved that issue, making sure they didn't interfere again. Faith was her responsibility, as far as she was concerned, and she was going to do whatever she could to help her.

Summer was nearly over, and as Buffy sat on her new bed, she wondered what college held for her. There'd been a distinct lack of vampires over the summer, and not many demons either, so she'd been a bit bored. But then again, the rest of her time had been spent worrying about Spike, so she'd hadn't done much anyway. And tomorrow, classes would start. She'd picked Psych 101, Poetry and Literature, and Willow had coerced her in a Drama course, which she wasn't sure she'd enjoy. But she was willing to try anything. It wasn't like her career was set in stone...except it was.

Buffy Summers, Slayer Extraordinaire...depending on how long she lived.

But thoughts of death aside, she had to unpack.

* * *

Her first day had sucked. So far. She'd made it through to lunchtime and was now sat at a bench on campus, not because she was resting, but because she was completely and utterly lost. And not for the first time either.

Her poetry class had been okay, and she thought she might enjoy that one. But then she'd wandered into the wrong lecture and ended up getting shouted at. The teacher must have been some kind of demon.

She didn't feel right here. She felt out of place, and lonely. Maybe if Willow had been in the same classes, she'd have felt better. But this was a foreign thing to her, and she was just getting more and more miserable by the moment. And she had to _find _her psych 101 class within the next hour if she wanted to attend.

College sucked.

'Hey.' A familiar voice called out to her, and she looked up, blinking in the sunlight. 'Buffy, right?'

It was the boy from the beach. Willow had mentioned she'd seen him when she was in the book store yesterday, and she knew he was a TA here. 'Hi.' She said, her voice dejected. He frowned, and took the seat next to her.

'You okay? You don't look so happy. Not that I recall seeing you happy before.' He paused. 'Has your friend still not come home?'

'My friend?'

'At the beach. Your redhead friend mentioned someone called Spike that you were missing or something?'

Wow, someone had a good memory. She just remembered his goofy smile and the distinct feeling of wanting to leave. But she had to be polite now. This guy might know the way to Psych 101. 'Oh yeah. Spike is my...er, boyfriend.' She smiled, almost apologetically. 'He's been away for a while, and I just...miss him, you know?' She sighed. 'Sorry. I'm not happy Buffy. College is...overwhelming.'

The guy nodded. His name still escaped her. 'I understand. So, is your boyfriend in the army or something?'

Buffy frowned. 'No. He just had to...go...do...something.' Damn, she'd never been good at lying on the spot. "No, he's a vampire, and he went to anchor his soul so I could finally tell him that I love him and then let him kiss every square inch of my skin until I'm a quivering mess" probably wouldn't fly here. This guy didn't seem like he had a clue about Sunnydale's true nature. Riley - _that's his name! _- nodded.

'Oh right.' He looked around. 'So, why are you sat here?'

'I'm lost.' She admitted, sheepishly. 'I have Psych 101 in an hour, and I have no idea where I am or how I'm going to get there.'

'Well, you're in luck. I'm Professor Walsh's TA. So I can show you the way.' He stood, bowing slightly and motioning with his hand. 'May I?'

Buffy nodded, figuring it wouldn't hurt to have a TA as a friend, and Riley was a pretty nice guy. 'You may.' She smiled and stood, following him along campus.

Maybe college wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

**To Be Continued...**

* * *

Okay, so there you have it. The first chapter of the sequel. I was going to give it a little bit of a cooling off period, but then my muse turned around and pretty much said, "Er, I don't think so mate. Get your laptop, we have work to do!" I'm hoping I can get some more done this weekend, but I have my best friend's baby shower, three paintings to finish and a tattoo booked in for Saturday, plus I have to find time to do the shopping and get to the gym. So I'll try but no promises. Let me know what you all think (^.^)


	2. Where Ghosts Tread

**Disclaimer:** The work contained within is merely my playtime with the characters created by Joss Whedon and I in no way own any of them, or anything like that. Unfortunately. It sucks. But I'll just continue my plot to kidnap and clone James Marsters for myself.  
**Rated NC-17. **Just in case.

* * *

**In Medio Ignis**

* * *

**Where Ghosts Tread**

* * *

Sleep avoided him. He had spent hours tossing and turning on the small and well used bed, switching between burying his head in the pillow, pulling the duvet over himself and sticking one leg out of the covers. But sleep would not come. The endless pounding in his head was distracting and the burning need to breathe was disturbing him. He didn't feel right.

He was so tired.

The injuries he'd sustained had healed, leaving faint bruises in their wake. Whistler had fed him up, then left him to his devices. They were to travel to Jomo Kenyatta International Airport tomorrow, to catch a flight to London, where they would connect with a flight to LA. It required a stop over in his home city, something that Spike did not relish the thought of. It had been many decades since he'd set foot in London, and he wasn't sure if he could cope with the memories he'd left behind.

He missed Buffy. He'd thought about calling her when he'd gotten to the hotel, but calculating the time difference made him conclude that it was too late for him to call her, knowing she probably had classes the next day. He wondered now if she was sleeping, if she was missing him, how her first days of college were going...

Spike wanted to sleep. He wanted that blissful peace of dreams for just a few moments. To pretend that the tortures he'd suffered, and the creature he'd made himself into, were not real and that he was back home, in Sunnydale (because yes, it was his home now, wherever she was, was his _home_) and not laying awake on the stiff unyielding mattress of a hotel bed.

The internal clock that had served him for three hundred years had not changed. Sunrise was close, and sleep was further away that it had been. He would find no rest here.

It would surprise him if he could rest anywhere but near her.

* * *

'You're struggling.'

Whistler's observation was irritating. He'd not said much this morning, not even after he'd glimpsed Spike's tired and circled gaze. They'd eaten breakfast in silence, and Spike hadn't even given thought to the satisfaction that the poorly cooked food gave him. Did he even need blood now? His demon wanted it, craved it, but did his living body need it.

He was still a vampire.

Just more...alive.

None of this made sense.

'If you hadn't noticed, this is a bit of a shitty situation, mate.' Spike spat at the other demon, who raised an eyebrow and turned off the truck's engine. They were at the airport now, and their flight was not far off. Although an international airport, Jomo Kenyatta was little more than a shack with a runway. But it suit their needs. Whistler had booked the tickets in advance; probably a tip off from the Powers That Be.

Spike was not such a big fan of theirs.

'We're stopping in London for 36 hours. We can book another hotel if you'd like.'

He didn't reply to the demon's unaired question for a few moments, sucking in his cheeks and chewed the inside of his own flesh for a few moments, making his jaw tic. He remembered his mother, so long ago, telling him off for that particular impatient habit. She always told him it would give him wrinkles.

Would he get wrinkles now? Would he age?

Whistler was staring at him, almost on a precipice as he waited for Spike to reply. All the vampire really wanted was to throttle the demon until he gave him some answers, but he knew none would be forthcoming. He had to be patient and wait - not his forte.

'Come on, let's get checked in and onto the plane. Maybe you'll get some sleep whilst we're airbourne.' Whistler said, moving a few steps ahead of him. Spike wasn't in the mood to argue, he was just too tired, so he followed obediently.

Once they were on the plane, he found himself drifting, not quite asleep but not quite awake. He was aware of Whistler's constant watch over him, but he didn't say anything, allowing his eyes to drift shut as the image of his golden goddess floated behind his eyes. He'd still not called her. Which probably meant he'd be in for the arse-kicking of a lifetime when he got back.

It was funny how when you were _that_ tired, time seemed to disappear. One second the plane was rumbling through turbulence in the skies over Africa, and the next, Whistler was shaking his arm, saying they were landing in London, and he had to wake up. Spike bolted upright in his chair, looking out of the window and seeing that the endless desert and sun had been replaced with a city scape and rain as the plane circled. His eyes cast over the city, taking in the skyscrapers and construction, the thousands of buildings crammed into one little space.

This was not the London he had left behind almost a century ago.

Was this even the same place?

Heathrow was crowded, and Spike flinched whenever someone came close. Whistler kept near to him as they went through security, showing fake passports to oblivious guards, collecting their small amount of luggage from the carousel. There were warm, pulsing bodies everywhere and Spike felt like a damn fledgling around all these humans. At the same time, he felt claustrophobic in the damp, warm air that smothered his newly functioning lungs and made him feel like he was drowning.

When they stepped outside, he breathed heavily and plucked a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it quickly with shaking hands.

'Are you okay?' Whistler asked, looking at him with concern. Spike was sick of being mothered.

'I'm fine. It's just...just an adjustment is all.'

The demon's mouth set into a fine line, and he didn't say anything for a moment. He watched Spike smoke deep lungfuls of poison, but didn't comment. 'We need to get a cab to the city. Our next flight goes from Gatwick tomorrow evening. It's morning now, so we'll go get some rest.'

Spike didn't reply, he simply followed again, climbing into a black cab behind Whistler, taking his seat and ignoring the driver's attempts at conversation. The demon conversed quite happily with the chap, who apparently had the same awful taste in clothing as himself. Today's ensemble for the journey had been a pastel green silk shirt, partnered with a brown leather jacket and black slacks. The ever present hat was getting burned one day, Spike swore on it.

Arriving at a hotel on the outskirts of London had Spike wanting his leave of the demon for a few hours. There were too many thoughts and feelings in him to hold back, and some time away on his own would do him good. Whistler had objected at first, but Spike had insisted, promising he would return. He had to - Whistler had his passport and Spike had no way of accessing funds to return himself to Buffy's side. He wasn't going to delay his return now.

Without instruction, his feet carried him through London, as he thrust his hands deep into the pockets of the linen coat he'd picked up in Narobi. He'd never missed his jacket more than now, but this did him. There was a fine drizzle in the English air, and the chill from the river winds caught him every now and then. After centuries without body heat, he was feeling the change.

Looking up from his aimless wandering, he found himself at a familiar place in Westminster, standing on concrete roads that had once been cobbled. None of these houses had been here when he was born, when he lived and died here. It had all been destroyed. And these house were far grander than the one he'd lived in. He carried on walking, finding himself by the river, looking over at the Houses Of Parliament, ignoring tourists that bustled past him. He wandered further, standing in the rain on the bridge, looking over into the waters of the Thames. They looked cleaner than they had when he was a boy. Back then, Big Ben hadn't even existed and it was barely twenty years old when he'd been here in the nineteenth century. Now there was Canary Wharf in the distance, and a hundred other buildings. London had grown so much.

He began walking again, allowing his thoughts to wander as he took in the sights and sounds around him. He bristled every now and then, aware he was being watched. He wondered if it was Whistler tracking him, or someone else entirely. He didn't really care; he was doing no harm here.

In his musings, he found himself in the back alleys of London, somewhere near Southbank. There were no tourists here; only beggars at the occasional local utilizing a short cut home. In the maze of back streets, he stopped, knowing instinctively where he was. For a second, the tall buildings and double yellow lines on the road disappeared, and he was in 1876, holding the cold body of Catherine Callan in his arms. The feeling lasted a split second, but it cut through him like a knife, leaving pain in its wake. There was no one around to see as he stumbled, coming up against a black painted brick wall, his body sagging as he wailed loudly.

How had he brought himself back here?

_You still carry the guilt. You still carry her inside you. All that fighting to secure the soul that is broken by happiness, and you'll still not allow yourself to move past the misery._

'Why do you taunt yourself so, William?'

Spike blinked, looking up. There was no one there. A parking warden at the furthest end of the street glanced at him, then went back to placing bright yellow packets on cars parked illegally. Spike fumbled in his pockets for his cigarettes.

'Oh, William.' A soft hand covered his and he froze, unsure of himself. Was he going mad? He dare not look up for fear of confirming his insanity. 'Stop hurting yourself.' The cigarette packed fell to the floor as the hand moved up to touch his face and he finally dragged startled blue eyes upwards. She was here. Stood before him, dressed in a smart business suit, tailored to her perfect womanly form, her red fiery hair pulled and clipped back from her face.

'Catherine?' He whispered, his mouth suddenly dry.

'You have questions, my William, I know.' She smiled softy, and he ached so badly. 'But trust me when I say, you are never alone. You need to rest, to get yourself home to your Buffy.'

'Buffy...' Spike looked away for a moment, and she laughed, making him jump.

'William, I could not presume to think that much of myself that you would never love another. You and I were not meant. You were written into the play for another.' Her smile was so enchanting. 'But you must go _home, _William. Or you will never know the answer you seek.'

'Cath...I...'

'Are you okay, Sir?' He blinked, and it was not Catherine stood before him in the sharp suit, and it was not her fiery locks pinned back. The brunette woman was looking at him with concern. He nodded, too dumbstruck to do anything else. The lady looked him up and down, obviously concerned. 'Are you lost?'

'N-no.' He managed a weak smile. 'Just, a bit lost in memories is all, luv.' She smiled hesitantly and nodded, moving away. He was alone again in the back streets, even the parking warden gone now. Shaking his head, he turned on his heel and retraced his steps, Cath's words replaying in his head.

He _had_ to get home.

* * *

Giles looked up from his books as Buffy entered his flat, her eyes darting cautiously around the room. The former Watcher smiled and stood, placing the book face down on the desk.

'Don't worry. Your mother is at your house, Buffy.'

'Oh thank god.' Buffy smiled. 'Cause, ya know, as much as I'm rooting for the Mom/Giles side, I'd rather not see it. Or you in tiny pink bathrobes again.' She grimaced. 'That was a definite overshare.'

'I do apologise, Buffy. We are endeavouring to keep our behaviour more...discreet.' He blushed, and Buffy grinned at his embarrassment.

'So, what's the what?'

'Ah, yes. Well, I was looking over some prophecies...'

'Really? I'm not even through the first week of college and you're throwing prophecies at me?'

'Yes, well, I don't know if this one pertains to any particular events that are going to occur, but I felt it appropriate to inform you, just in case.'

'Just in case what?' Buffy asked, dumping her bag on the sofa and facing her watcher with concern on her face.

'Just in case it was a prophecy about you...' He hadn't finished and Buffy waited. 'And Spike.' She dropped to the armchair, her concern for her vampire more palpable than anything else.

'Have you heard from him?' She whispered. Giles shook his head. 'Me either. I'm worried, Giles. Super worried.'

'Spike would not stay away any longer than is necessary, my dear. He could not abandon you.'

'He said he'd be back before college started. Well, it did. And he's not here.'

'He also said he would stop pilfering my scotch last year, and look how well that turned out.' Giles joked, then stopped as Buffy looked at him. 'No, you're right. This is quite different. He promised you he would be home, and we know Spike does not break his promises.'

'He's not dead.' She said quietly. 'I'd know.' The statement confused Giles, and brought him back to the prophecy he'd discovered.

'I rather think you would. Your unique relationship with Spike is what made me believe that it is yourselves that the prophecy concerns.' He held out the book and Buffy took it from him, reading the highlighted passage.

'And night shall cover the skies, hailing a dawn in which the two fight together.' Buffy frowned. 'What does this mean?'

'I'm still working on the majority of the translation. Spike read that line when I discovered the book a few months ago. I do not believe it is an immediate prophecy, but that line itself was translated improperly by the author. It actually says "a dawn for which the two fight together".'

'What's the difference?' The Slayer asked.

'There isn't one really. But a small mistake such as that could mean the rest of the passage has been misinterpreted. So far I've corrected the translations to several points. One being "a key to open all doors" but I have yet to find a proper meaning to it. The other was "two sides of a coin are the same", which I believed to pertain to you and Spike. I think.'

'So, this isn't a major apocalypse thing?' Buffy asked, handing the book back.

'No. I just thought it prudent to make you aware.' Giles said, putting the book back on the desk. 'If I find any more, I will let you know, of course.'

Buffy nodded. 'Okay. Well, I have to get back to campus. I have class in about forty five minutes. Not an important one but...I don't have anything else to do.' She sighed. 'Let me know if...' The question didn't need to be said, and Giles nodded, looking at her with compassion.

'I will. He'll be home before you know it, Buffy.'

She smiled tightly, and left the apartment.

* * *

Crawling into her bed after patrol was a welcome activity. She was tired, more tired than she had been for a while and she desperately craved sleep. After busting up a group of vampires who were kidnapping college kids and turning them, she had wandered for a while, looking for more vampires to slay. But they'd all gone for an early night. Even Giles and her mom were asleep and Willow had been snoring softly when she'd returned to the dorm.

She slipped into her pyjamas quietly, put her weapons away and pulled her hair into a loose ponytail before sliding beneath her sheets, sighing as she relaxed into the mattress. She was so tired, that it took minutes for her to drift off.

A few moments later, she was awake, sitting bolt upright in bed. It was still dark and she glanced around, looking over at Willow's bed. The redhead continued to snore, and Buffy frowned, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed frame. As she stood, she looked back down at her bed, and saw herself; sleeping soundly.

'I did not mean to startle you.' A voice came from behind her, and she turned, fists raised, even though it was clear to her now that she was dreaming. Slayer dream? She'd put a few bucks on it.

By her dorm room door, next to her chocolate poster, stood a young girl. She was a few years younger than Buffy, with flame red hair that seemed almost luminous in its colour. Her smile was bright and her eyes twinkled in the low light. Buffy relaxed. It was clear this girl was a Slayer.

'I know you.' She said quietly and the girl nodded.

'You do. I am a Slayer, just like you.'

'You're not just a Slayer, are you?' Buffy asked, and the girl shook her head.

'I'm Catherine. I had his heart before he could give it to you.'

Buffy regarded her with curiosity. 'You...you're not here to tell me...' She couldn't say it. It hurt too much to consider it. She'd _know, _wouldn't she?

'William is not dead. Quite the opposite.' Catherine stepped forward. 'He is coming home to you, Buffy. He is yours. He always has been - even when he was mine.'

'That's doesn't make much sense.'

Catherine giggled. 'No. I didn't get much sense out of my Slayer dreams either.' She sighed. 'I didn't want to die so young. Being a Slayer was empowering but, terrifying, don't you think?' Buffy nodded. 'They allowed me to watch over him. My poor imperfect vampire. Even when he rampaged after he tried to save me...I could not help but love him more, despite the things he has done. When he was cursed, I saw my chance. I gave him the gift that would lead him to you.'

'The Gem?'

It didn't seem like the other girl had heard her. 'He has always looked for a destiny. Even when he was alive, he looked to the future. Looking for somewhere to belong. He thought he had found it with me - but it was never written. But you...oh you were written, sister Slayer. You were always written.'

'So you're saying we're...meant to be together?'

'It doesn't make the road easy to travel, but at least you know it is there.' Catherine said, smiling softly. 'There are many tasks ahead, Buffy Summers. But you are never alone.'

Buffy watched her carefully. 'I know I'm not alone. But what are the tasks?'

'Nothing is set in stone.' Her words were confusing and conflicting now and Buffy frowned. She opened her mouth to speak again but Catherine was suddenly in front of her, holding a hand up to her lips. 'Shush now. You need to sleep. He will come home to you, Buffy. He's your William now, and he can never stay away from the sun.'

And then the room dissolved and Buffy finally slept.

* * *

Oversleeping was a bitch. She felt plenty rested, despite the confusion of her slayer dream (although she was less convinced it was a dream and more convinced it was Catherine hijacking her mind) and she'd completely missed her alarm. As a consequence, she was rushing across town to meet her mom for lunch, as she'd promised her she would two days previous.

As she entered the Espresso Pump, she saw her mom sat at a table with Giles and she scowled a little. She'd been hoping for quality mom-and-daughter time.

'Buffy!' Joyce Summers exclaimed happily.

'Ah.' Giles said, smiling. 'I'll be off then.' He stood as Buffy approached, nodding at her. 'I was just keeping your mother company whilst she waited for you.'

'I need to see you later.' Buffy said quietly. 'Slayer dreams. Might have something to do with what you told me the other day.' Giles' eyes widened slightly.

'Very well. I have an errand to run, but I should be back around six.' He looked back over to Joyce. 'I shall see you tomorrow, my dear.' Joyce beamed at him, and he left, leaving the Summers' women to their lunch.

'So. How's college going?' Joyce asked, and Buffy nodded, trying to seem bright and cheerful.

'It's okay. Classes are...intimidating but I'm doing okay. I just miss Spike, ya know?'

Her mom reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently. 'I know it seems hard right now, sweetheart, but he'll be home before you know it.' She smiled. 'He was smitten with you from the start.'

'Anyway, I didn't come to swap romance stories with you, and that is totally a cue to completely ignore the grossness that is you and Giles.' Buffy made a face and her mother chuckled. 'Where did you fancy for lunch?'

'I thought we could go shopping. You didn't get any new clothes for college, and I happen to have gained a large commission on some paintings this week, so my treat.'

Buffy beamed. Shopping would definitely perk her up.

* * *

It was nearer seven when she finally headed over to Giles' apartment. It had been a successful afternoon of shopping with her mom, and she now had several new outfits for college and one or two for slaying. Her new pumps were just the cutest ever and she'd thrown them on straight away to model them to Willow and Xander, who'd agreed to meet her for a trip to the Bronze. Moping aside, she didn't want to sit in the dorm alone tonight.

She didn't bother knocking as she got to the Englishman's door, pushing it open and rushing in. 'I'm so sorry I'm late, Giles. I had to go back to the dorm and put stuff away and I got some really cute shoes, not that...you'd...appreciate...' Her voice trailed off as she looked at the occupants of the apartment.

Giles sat in his armchair, leaning forward, his hands clasped together. Opposite him on the sofa, sat Whistler, the badly dressed little demon she'd had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting before. Her heart thumped and jumped into her throat and she felt sick. Why would a representative of the Powers be here, if not for bad news?

'Buffy.' Giles said, standing.

'What is he doing here?' She said, tears threatening to fall as she took a small step backwards.

'It's not a bad thing.' Whistler stood, holding up his hands. 'I was just here to deliver something.'

'Deliver what?' Buffy eyed him warily.

'He's upstairs.' Giles said softly and her eyes widened. 'He was very tired and jet lagged, and I didn't want to send him home alone.'

'He...' She didn't finish as she instantly forgot the two men in the living room and bolted up the stairs. Giles' bedroom was open planned to the stairwell, but it was dark and took a moment for her eyes to adjust. There, on the former librarian's bed, lay Spike, dressed in clothes that were misshapen from hours on a plane, and his hair mussed, the roots showing more brown than she'd ever seen on him before. He was sleeping, although his jaw twitched occasionally.

She almost collapsed with relief at the sight of him. Drawing closer, she quietly knelt beside the bed, reaching out a shaky hand. He was pale, and there were circles under his eyes, but she couldn't see the rest of him. Her hand touched his face, and she felt tears of relief falling from her eyes. His breaths increased as he awoke, blue orbs opening to focus on her.

'Buffy.' He whispered, not moving for a moment as he drank her in, relishing the touch of her hand on his cheek.

'Spike...' She said, her voice choked with sobs. 'You're home. You're home.' He sat up as she collapsed forward, landing with her face in his chest. 'Oh god, you're home.' He didn't say anything as he pulled her closer, holding her tightly.

'I'm home.' He replied, her arms coming up to grip him tightly. For long moments they stayed like that, her sobs of relief the only noise penetrating the room.

Buffy stilled suddenly, a strange noise coming to her, emanating from his chest. A noise that she'd never dreamt she'd hear from him. She frowned, pulling away slightly as she raised her confused hazel gaze to his face.

'Spike. You're alive.'

* * *

**To Be Continued...**

* * *

Yay! Spike is home! But what lies ahead for our duo now?


	3. Twisted Paths

**Disclaimer:** The work contained within is merely my playtime with the characters created by Joss Whedon and I in no way own any of them, or anything like that. Unfortunately. It sucks. But I'll just continue my plot to kidnap and clone James Marsters for myself.  
**Rated NC-17. **Just in case.

**Author's Note: **Bit of a short one today folks, I'm laid up at the moment with a stomach bug and a fucked spine so hopefully can get a bit more done whilst I'm unable to go to work! Thank you all for your kind reviews ^.^

* * *

**In Medio Ignis**

* * *

**Twisted Paths**

* * *

'You're alive.'

Her words brought back the truth of his weeks away from Sunnydale, and he closed his eyes tightly, willing away the memories of the pain he'd gone through. He felt like a small boy in that moment, unwilling to face the reality of the world, wishing he could crawl under the covers until all the monsters had gone away and his world was safe and secure once more.

'You're alive.' Buffy repeated, her hand coming up to rest over his breast, the steady thump of his heart under her hand mesmerising her. 'But...if you're human...this...how...I don't...' She faltered in her words, unable to raise her eyes to meet his. _If he's human, how can he fight beside me? I'll just put him in danger, get him killed...oh Spike...what have you done?_

'I'm not...not human.' He said quietly, as if he knew where her thoughts were leading her. 'Whistler says...'m just a little more animated than your usual animated corpse.'

'Don't call yourself that.' Buffy scolded. 'You were never a corpse. You're more alive than most _living_ people.' She splayed her hands over his chest, still marvelling at his heartbeat. 'Whistler...he knows about all this?'

'He's the one that found me, stumbling out of a cave into the desert. If it hadn't been for him, I'd probably be carrion for the vultures.' He shuddered at the thought.

'So he has answers?' Buffy said, her tone even and deliberate. Spike shrugged.

'Maybe.' Her face became grim, and she stood. Spike reached out for her, but she shrugged him off. 'Buffy, wait-'

'No. I want answers.' She strode off and headed down the stairs, whilst he scrambled out of the covers and followed, limping slightly. He still wasn't fully healed from his ordeal. As he came to the bottom of the stairs, Buffy was already threatening Whistler with bodily harm.

The little demon held up his hands in surrender. 'I can only tell you a little, blondie. The rest is yours to find out.'

'Spill. Before I spill something else.' The threat was clear, and the demon visible gulped, whilst Giles watched the interchange with curiosity. He'd been asking questions of the demon already, but Whistler had not been very forthcoming.

'There are things in this world that are preordained. Some not so, right?' He waited for nods from all three before continuing. 'You and him, that's one of the preordained things. We knew you were supposed to have a champion, but we weren't so sure _who_ it was. William was marked from the start as someone important in the grand scheme of things, but so was Angel. And it was fifty fifty as to who it'd be. May not have been either of them.'

'But he is.' Buffy said, folding her arms.

'Yup. He's the one. Your champion. Your equal.' He shrugged. 'He's the Mary-Kate to your Ashley.'

'Did you seriously just compare us to the Olsen twins?' Buffy raised an eyebrow as Spike glared.

'You're both blonde.' Another shrug of the leather clad shoulders.

'So he's human.' Giles asked.

'No. And yes.' Whistler sighed as Buffy glared at him. 'He asked a very specific question when he went to that demon. "Make me what she deserves". It wasn't just about anchoring the soul. You're our greatest warrior, Buffy Summers. In this dimension and others. Way we've figured it, you've got more of the First Slayer in you than any other before. You're stronger, faster, and you're probably going to live a very long time.'

'The First Slayer?'

'Gotta start somewhere. The First Slayer was a girl, imbued with the strength and power of a demon.'

'So I'm a demon.'

'Again, yes and no.' Whistler winced as Buffy took a step forward. 'Hey, don't shoot the messenger! I'm just telling you what I know and what I know is sometimes very confusing!'

Spike eyed him warily. 'You never mentioned any of this on the way over.'

'I don't like repeating myself.' He waited for a moment, ensuring Buffy wasn't going to spring and kill him before he continued. 'Thing is, you _do_ have a demon Slayer. But not like his demon.' He pointed to Spike for emphasis. 'Your demon is long dead. You have the spirit of it, the abilities of it, but not the _actual_ demon. Spike has that. And he has his soul. He's the only demon in the history of the Earth to be able to coalesce the two.'

'So what does that mean?' Giles interjected.

'Just that he's pretty damn special.' Whistler looked to the former librarian for a moment. Spike had moved closer, standing side by side with Buffy now as he kept his eyes on the demon. 'Look, he's not human. He's still a vampire.'

'Just a little more animated, yeah?' Buffy asked.

'Yeah, sort of. His humanity is linked to yours. He'll be alive, as long as you are.'

'We're linked?' Spike asked, looking worried by the prospect.

'It's not a claim. It's just the only way we could work this. You don't share powers or anything-'

'Wait, wait, wait.' Buffy held up a hand. 'What's a claim?'

'Ancient tradition. Pretty much died out. Only works between vampires.' Spike muttered. Buffy glanced over at him.

'Oh, okay.' She said, reaching out for his hand. 'You can tell me more about that later.' He smiled tightly, letting her hold his hand but not squeezing back. She frowned a little, but was distracted by Whistler talking again.

'You two are it. You're the ultimate fighting team, or something that sounds a little less corny. So long as you're both alive, sky's the limit.'

'So if she dies, I die?'

'No. If she dies, you revert back to what you were. Sans soul.' Whistler said carefully.

'And Angel's soul?'

'That's nothing to do with yours anymore.'

'So I've gone from being linked to one person, to linked to another?' Spike glowered. 'What, am I not capable of being my own man?'

'So if she died, you'd go back to rampaging?' The demon asked.

'If she died, I'd meet the next sunrise, and you fucking know it.' Spike growled, his hand gripped Buffy's. She looked at him, tears in her eyes. He felt her hand squeezing his tightly, and turned to her. 'I mean it. Life without you, pet? Not on my agenda.' She smiled at him, tugging him a little closer.

'I'm so glad you're home.' She whispered, leaning her forehead against his cheek. He smiled and wrapped his free arm around her.

'So...' Whistler started. 'I think that's about it. There's not much else I can tell you. That's just the definite stuff.'

'So what now?' Spike asked, his eyes on the demon as he held Buffy close.

'I'm gonna go. And I'm gonna hope to never set foot in this hellhole town again.' He tipped his hat, heading for the door. Giles held a hand out.

'But what about-'

'Not my concern. I've done what I was supposed to.' And Whistler was gone, leaving behind a confused Watcher and two relieved blondes.

* * *

'Your hair is getting long.' Buffy said as they sat in Giles' living room, hand in hand on the couch. Giles had popped out for a few moments to pick up some fresh clothing for Spike, as the vampire had nothing left. He was still shaky on his feet, and couldn't make the trip to his apartment just yet, and Buffy didn't want to leave his side after being apart from him so long.

'Yeah, I'll need to do something about that.'

'I missed you.' She said quietly. Spike didn't reply for a few seconds, before he raised tired blue eyes to meet her gaze, and pulled her into him.

'I'm sorry, pet. I missed you too. Just...this is all a bit overwhelming. Still have a bit of a headache from waking up with a heartbeat.' He smiled, kissing the top of her head. 'Distract me. What did I miss?'

'Er...' She frowned. 'Well, summer was pretty boring. All the vamps went on holiday or something.' She shrugged, leaning into his side. 'Xander got an apprenticeship as a carpenter. Willow spent the whole summer preparing for college. Oz did some cool gigs in LA.' She looked up at him. 'Am I distracting you enough?'

'Yeah. What else? Any good parties?'

'I didn't really...' She paused, knowing he'd tell her off for moping the whole summer. 'Well, there was a beach party but it was a bit of a let down. Bronze was the usual. Summer really was boring.'

'Okay, so what about college?' He leaned back on the sofa now, allowing her the room to curl into him as he relaxed back, his eyes lidded as she spoke. 'How are your classes going?'

'Okay, I guess. Some of it is pretty intense. My first day was a nightmare. I got lost, and one of the TA's had to show me where my class was. He was pretty friendly, but he seemed like on of those boring as hell, Joe Normal types.' She shivered a little. 'He seems to be interested in me.' Spike's grip around her shoulders tightly, almost imperceptibly, but she felt it and smiled.

'As long as he knows you're spoken for.'

'Oh, he knows.' She giggled quietly, then went silent as she leaned back into him. For a few moments they were quiet, enjoying the feel of being in each other's company once more, when she remembered something else she had been up to this past summer. 'I've been visiting Faith.'

He opened his eyes slowly, looking down at her. 'You have?'

Buffy nodded. 'Yeah. I go a few times a week. Just sit with her. They wanted to put her in this basement ward, but mom made sure she had a private room. She's...I can't forget her like she's a corpse in a box somewhere. I put her in that hospital. And regardless of what she did...everyone deserves a second chance right? I mean, she might wake up and hate me, and fair enough, we did a lot of bad to each other, but I can't just leave her to rot, she's had a shit life, and I didn't really help, and it doesn't seem fair-' Spike's finger on her lips stopped her.

'Doesn't matter, pet. You do what you feel is right. Girl was mixed up, we all saw that.' He smiled as he dropped a kiss to her forehead. 'I'm not going to hold anything against you. Your nature is to save people - s'only right you should try to help her, innit?'

Buffy smiled, and reached up to pull his finger away from her face. As their hands touched, electricity seemed to spark between them, and she leaned forward, entwining her fingers through his as she pressed her lips to his. For a moment the kiss remained chaste; then she pushed further and he opened his mouth, allowing her entrance. Their mouths fused together as he wrapped his free arm around her, and she shifted so she was straddling his lap, trying to press so close to him that they would fuse together, and never part again.

For long moments, they stayed like that, so tightly wound together that Buffy was unsure where she ended and he began; until someone clearing their throat behind them made them both jump.

Giles stood, a holdall in one hand and his glasses in the other, his cheeks a nice shade of crimson as he tried to look _anywhere_ but at them.

'Maybe we should order some dinner. Get Spike's strength up so he can return home.' The unspoken declaration was there; _then you can go and make out on your own couch._

Buffy looked down at Spike, blushing, and he grinned wickedly, squeezing her ass as he picked her up off of his lap and deposited her on the sofa.

'Be right back, pet. Some of these "human" aspects. I'm still adjusting.' He winked, and headed for the bathroom as Buffy stayed on the couch, her heart pounding and her stomach rolling.

God, she'd missed him.

* * *

'You look tired.' She observed as he ate the meal Giles had prepared.

He finished his mouthful and put down the fork, placing the plate on the coffee table. It was new to him again; the taste of food. He'd loved spicy and strong flavours as a vampire, having a muted palate, but now, actually _needing _the sustenance, was odd. He couldn't figure out what the benefits of him being alive were, but it seemed like the Powers had plans for him that weren't going to be made clear.

Yet, anyway.

He hadn't given much thought to it. But she was right; he was tired. Possibly tired of being a puppet on a string. He'd chosen this, hadn't he? So why did he feel like he'd been coerced into the decision.

'Are you okay?' Buffy asked, concern flooding her face. Spike nodded.

'Sorry, pet. Mind's elsewhere. And yeah, I'm knackered.'

'Maybe we should get you home? Once you've changed into the clean clothes Giles got for you?'

Spike paused at the thought of his cold little flat. He didn't really have anything there, and it was too late to nip out to the shops. Giles noticed his discomfort and smiled gently.

'You can stay here the night. Buffy has classes in the morning, and whilst she is doing that, we can head over to the supermarket and stock up.'

'I need to get access to my funds.' Spike murmured, thinking out loud. 'Left most of my documents here. I'll need to get new I.D. Lost everything in Africa. I don't even know how Whistler got me back.'

Buffy shrugged. 'At least he did.'

Spike smiled up at her, reaching out to take her hand. 'Yeah, he did.' And then he yawned.

The action was so odd, so foreign on him, that Buffy giggled, and he frowned in return.

'Sorry.' She apologised. 'Just, I've never seen you yawn before. It was weird.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'I suspect a lot of things are gonna seem weird.' He squeezed his eyes shut. 'Is there no way to turn this heartbeat down? Three centuries of quiet and now it's like a racket in here.'

'You'll adjust.' Giles assured him, then looked to Buffy. 'It is very late, Buffy. Maybe you should head back to the dorms for now. I will call if there are any problems, but I imagine Spike just needs a good nights sleep.' She looked miserable at the thought of leaving him.

'I guess.' She was outright pouting now, as Spike gave her a soft smile. 'I'll see you tomorrow though, right? After class?'

'What time does your last one finish?' He asked.

'About half two.' She said, leaning into him.

'How about I pick you up? I'd like to pop over and see your mum if that's okay?' He waited for her answer and she smiled brilliantly, nodding. 'I'll find my way to campus, don't worry.'

'Meet me at my dorm. It's 614 Stevenson.' She leant in and kissed him firmly. 'I'll see you tomorrow.' She looked over at Giles. 'Make sure...' She paused. 'Nevermind.' And with that, she left, knowing if she didn't go quickly, she probably wouldn't go. Her head was full of him as she made her way out of Giles' complex and towards Restfield, intending on doing a quick sweep before she headed back to campus.

What she wouldn't give to have brought him home with her tonight. May have scarred Willow for life, but at least she'd finally have him. In her arms, her bed. Finally, completely, one hundred percent, hers. Nothing to keep them apart.

With a startled gasp, she paused halfway through the cemetery. She was so stupid! They'd had hours together, and all that time she'd spent before wanting to say it. And she hadn't.

She hadn't told him.

* * *

He watched the door shut behind her, and then sighed, sinking back onto the sofa. His injuries were still healing, and he ached more than he had done before in his long life. But he couldn't have let on to that in front of Buffy, else she wouldn't have left, and then she would be tired for her classes the next day. On one hand, he hated hiding anything from her, but on the other, he knew that she'd been beating herself up all summer.

Spike wasn't stupid. When she'd told him about her summer, it was clear she'd done exactly what he hadn't wanted her to do, and moped over him. He hated that. Hated that she'd become so...attached. And now they were linked together. He'd done that.

He was such a fool.

'Are you okay?' Giles' voice jarred him from his thoughts.

'What have I done?' Spike said quietly, putting his head into his hands. 'I've doomed her.'

'Doomed her?' The former librarian looked confused. 'I don't follow.'

'I never meant for this. Never meant to link her to me. I love her, and I want her, but I want her to be free to make that decision. Want her to know that if she doesn't want this, she doesn't have to stay. Now we're bloody well linked!'

'Your humanity is linked.' Giles said slowly. 'Whistler said it was your humanity. She can still leave, Spike. Just as long as you both live, she has that choice.' He frowned. 'You do realise that she wouldn't leave, even if you told her to?' He paused. 'She wouldn't leave even if you did. She's too stubborn.'

'I know that.' Spike sighed, heavily. 'I guess I'm just panicking. I don't like taking her choices away from her.'

'And that is precisely why you are her choice, my friend.' Giles stood, reaching for the bourbon he kept in his record cabinet. 'Now, I believe I have just the remedy for a sleepless night...'

* * *

**To Be Continued...**


	4. Adjusting To Regress

**Disclaimer:** The work contained within is merely my playtime with the characters created by Joss Whedon and I in no way own any of them, or anything like that. Unfortunately. It sucks. But I'll just continue my plot to kidnap and clone James Marsters for myself.  
**Rated NC-17. **Just in case.

**Author's Note: **I do apologise for the late update. I've developed a bit of an addiction to Supernatural, so I've been watching that and neglecting my authorly duties!

* * *

**In Medio Ignis**

* * *

**Adjusting to Regress**

* * *

It felt weird to wake up in his bed again. He'd spent a couple of days at Rupert's, holed up and trying to come to terms with what had happened. He could wrap his head around the "slightly more animated" version of what he'd gone through, but it was fact that his humanity was tied to Buffy's that was throwing him. He wasn't sure if it was such a good idea.

Not that there was any backing out now.

He wondered if this meant she would live as long as he did; because forever was a hell of a long time. And yet if she died, he had to carry on. Without her. Back in his existence from before. A single vampire, with more feeling than a vampire should have.

Outcast.

Alone.

Things he simply didn't want to be.

How he'd been before had been okay. Before Sunnydale. Coping with his loneliness, attempting to do the right thing by the memory of a dead woman. Now, he didn't think he could go through that again. Losing her would shatter everything in him. He knew, or rather hoped, that if anything did happen, and he returned to his previous state, he'd not use the Gem again. He'd lay down and wait for the dawn to take him. He couldn't go through that again.

Laying on his bed, with only his thoughts to surround him, the sound of her voice made him jump.

'Hey.'

He propped himself up on his elbows, acutely aware he was naked under his sheets. They slipped a little, but didn't expose anything; although by the way her eyes wandered, maybe she wished they would.

'Hey.' Spike replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.

'You okay? Giles said you left without a word last night. I would have come by but I had an issue with some demon girl on campus.'

'Demon girl? You alright?'

Buffy smiled, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 'Nothing I couldn't handle. Just some dimension hopping teen demon that was like, three thousand years old or something. Daddy dearest came to take her home. She was stealing the soul of some poor girl she was sharing with. Girl's okay. Gone into that magical Sunnydale denial thing.'

Spike nodded. 'At least you took care of it.'

'You should have seen her room. Talk about paying homage to Cher. I nearly ended up sharing with her too – thank god for college freakouts and Willow having a spare bed!' Buffy smiled, reaching over to take his hand. 'Anyway, that's done and dusted. How are you feeling?'

His smile was thin as he sat up fully, holding the sheet to his waist. 'I'm okay. It's…a bit overwhelming. Worrying.'

Buffy frowned. 'Worrying?'

He sighed, pulling his hand away from her as he went to stand, wrapping the sheet around his middle. Buffy's eyes followed his actions, and he prayed the sheet was tight enough to hide his slightly obvious attraction to her. 'Jus' the whole humanity being tied to yours. It's…I…' He held a hand to his forehead. 'I don't want anything bad to happen to you.'

'Nothing bad is gonna happen, Spike. We're a hell of a team. And with the Scoobies? We're pretty much a force to be reckoned with. Big snake? Killed him totally dead.'

'I know, but I didn't mean like that.' He looked at her, seriousness filling his gaze. 'Living forever can sometimes be the worst thing to happen, pet.'

Buffy's mouth dropped open and closed as she contemplated his words. 'You mean…I might be…'

'If our humanity is tied, makes sense to thing our longevity is too.' He bit his lip. 'An' as much as I hate to say it, mine's a tad longer than yours.'

She was silent for a moment. 'I might…live forever…same as you?' She looked down. 'Is being with me forever that scary?'

He rushed forward, bringing up his hands to her shoulders, shaking his head. 'No…no, god, no, kitten, forever with you is heaven to me. I jus' don't want to see you go through that. Losing your mum, your friends, everything around you. It's very hard to do, pet. I don't want you to suffer.' Buffy's eyes were wide as she pulled away a little. He frowned. 'Buffy, love…'

'Spike, er…your sheet.'

His eyes went wide as he realised in his haste to comfort her, the sheet had fallen down, and he was stood completely naked in front of her . His hands went to cover himself as Buffy turned away giggling. 'Hey now, nothing to laugh at.'

'I'm sorry.' She said, struggling to control herself. 'It's just…that was not how I imagined seeing you naked for the first time. And you were being so sweet and serious.' She burst, laughing harder even as she tried to stifle it. He scowled at her back, and grabbed his jeans from the floor.

'I guess it's good to hear you laugh.' He said, as she calmed down, and turned back just as he did up the buttons on his pants.

'Sorry.' She smiled. 'Nice to get a glimpse of what's to come though.'

'You naughty…' He was beside her in two strides, his lips descending on hers without a moment's pause. After a few moments, he felt like his chest was burning, and pulled away, panting. 'God I've missed you.'

'I missed you too.' Buffy said, kissing him again, her hands wandering over his chest and coming to rest on his waistband. The very tips of her fingers slipped under and he groaned, stilling her hands and she pulled back and pouted at him.

'Not now, pet.' He smiled, and she almost melted. 'When we do, I want it to last. Want it to be special.' He looked down at himself. 'Don't want to be so battered and bruised. You carry on and I'm gonna make a schoolboy out of myself.'

'But Spike…' She raised her eyes to his, smiling coyly. Spike raised a finger, shushing her.

'Not gonna work, kitten.' He smiled, kissing her once and then pulling back. 'And I don't wanna hear any more arguments. Soon, but not now.' He stumbled a little and grimaced at a renewed pain in his side. 'I'm not hundred percent jus' yet.'

Buffy frowned in concern and was at his side. 'I'm sorry. I was gonna ask if you wanted to help me patrol but…'

'I'm up to it. Just need to eat. Dunno how you stand this. I'm so hungry I could eat a herd of buffalo.' He growled as he grabbed his shirt from the floor, slipping it over his thin shoulders.

'How about dinner then killing things?' She suggested with a bright smile, forgetting that she'd tried to jump his bones seconds before. Spike returned the smile and headed to the front door, holding it open for her.

'After you, my lady.'

* * *

Patrol had been successful, with six fledges killed and one demon taken out of the game, and only three or four stops for heavy smooching sessions. As much as Buffy had wanted to accompany him back to the apartment, she'd returned to her dorm, fully pouting. Willow looked up as she came in, frowning at her friend's expression.

'Hey, Buffy. What's wrong?'

'Spike.' The Slayer flopped onto the bed, scowling at the ceiling. 'He's being all distancy.'

'Distancy?' Willow blinked, then overlooked Buffy's butchering of the English language. 'How'd you mean?'

'Well, he was all _naked_ earlier. Like, the sheet slipped down, oh my god my slightly dead boyfriend is a major hottie, _naked._ And he said no.'

'He said no?' The red head looked confused. 'Spike? The most red blooded male we know? Said no?'

'Ya-huh. No.' She sat up, folding her arms in indignation. 'I practically jumped him and he said no.'

'Is he okay?'

'Well….' Buffy hesitated. 'He's still injured. And he said he wants to wait. Make it perfect.'

'Awww, that's kinda sweet, Buffy.'

'Yeah. If I hadn't already been gagging for him for months!' Buffy's outburst made her blush and cover her own mouth. Willow giggled. 'I mean, we've been together for…'

'Not actually that long. You spent about a year trying to decide if you loved him instead of Angel and then there was all the Faith slash gypsy curse angst.' Willow pointed out. 'I mean, he wants to make it right for you. I think it's nice. Most guys are "wham, bam, thank you ma'am". If you get me.'

'What, like that Parker Abrams? Seen him with more than a few girls. He made a freshman cry in study hall the other day. I think she's in my drama class so either _really_ good acting, or Parker is a jerk.'

'Ugh.' Willow shuddered. 'Thank god we have good guys already. I'd hate to think what would have happened if any of us came to college single.'

'Speaking of relationships, any more word from Xander?'

The look on the red head's face could have summoned thunder. Xander had been absent lately, either working hard at his job or spending time with his new squeeze, Anya, former vengeance demon. Buffy wasn't sure what to make of the girl – she was exceptionally forthright and honest, and said things that a lot of them didn't need to hear. Spike had yet to meet her properly. Buffy thought they'd probably get on like a house on fire.

'He hasn't called. I saw him at the coffee house with Anya. It was disturbing. I think I preferred Cordy.'

'No. Anya is way better.' Buffy chuckled. Willow scowled. 'Nevermind.' The Slayer changed the subject. 'How's things with you and Oz?'

'He has a gig in LA next week.'

'Another one? Wow, talk about up and coming.'

'Yeah, next thing you know, he'll be getting paid for them.' Willow gushed, pulling her shoulders up. 'But we're going out tomorrow night. You're more than welcome to come. It's a gig at the Bronze, and then probably some dancing. Maybe go wild with a soft beverage of some kind.'

'Ooooo. Maybe I'll see if Spike will join us. If I wear something really hot, I might actually get some attention.'

* * *

Spike had sat in the dark of his apartment for an hour before losing patience with himself and grabbing his coat. He wasn't going to sleep and he felt useless sitting around. Leaving Buffy at her door with a chaste kiss had left him unsatisfied and wired beyond belief. If he wouldn't let himself enjoy one pleasure, he'd have to find another.

Twenty minutes after leaving his flat, he came across two Fyarl demons on the outskirts of town, arguing over the carcass of a coyote. Fyarl were dumb scavengers; animals essentially. They were the most popular henchmen next to vampires but lacked the brain power to be anything but muscle. And they were dangerous when angry. And these two looked pissed at each other. Spike grinned widely, eyeing the two demons with glee.

Nothing like a spot of violence to soothe his recently anchored soul.

It took the Fyarls a few moments to notice him and another couple of seconds to get over the confusion. The bigger one out of the two lumbered forward, obviously seeing him as the threat he intended to be. Meal forgotten, it swung a clumsy paw towards him, which probably would have taken his head off if he hadn't of ducked to avoid it. Spike span around, coming up to kick the demon in the back of its scaly legs and it sprawled forward. Spike laughed, and then felt himself being hoisted into the air. The second Fyarl had a good grip on his midsection, but not good enough.

Spike twisted, breaking free, but the Fyarl roared and launched him, sending him smashing shoulders first against a brick bus shelter. He hit the floor, springing back up, his vampire face to the fore as he laughed maniacally.

One of the Fyarls called him a "stupid meatsack" and went for him again, landing a good blow to Spike's face. The blond felt something crunch and growled as he grabbed the Fyarl's meaty fist, throwing his entire weight against it. He heard a snap and the demon roared it's pain as it punched him away with it's other arm. It cradled it's wrist, snarling, spittle flying from the toothy mouth. Spike blinked as he shook away the effects the punch. Fyarl bones were like steel, and he'd just snapped one like a twig.

Before he could contemplate this, the bigger Fyarl came for him, and Spike had to avoid having his own bones snapped. The demon backed him up against the bus shelter and swung for him again, dismantling half the shelter with one punch as Spike went into a side tumble to avoid the hit. He bounced to his feet, wondering if he'd bitten off more than he could chew as he tasted blood filling his mouth. He spat a mouthful onto the sidewalk and looked up, knowing there was no choice but to finish the fight.

Both Fyarls were advancing towards him, the bigger one ahead of the smaller one, but the smaller one looked angrier. The damage to its wrist was a dark mottled black against the regular grey, but it didn't seem to be noticing the injury in the red hot fury it was feeling towards the blond. Spike danced away, but they were pushing him back, and the bigger one grabbed him as he swung a punch, grappling until it had both of his arms in its grip. Spike struggled, but the smaller landed its fist in his face and he sagged a little. The world started to blur as he felt both of his arms being pinned behind him, and he cried out as he heard the demons growl in their native language.

'Let's see if it splits.'

His chest was burning with the force of his arms being pinned backwards, and his left shoulder made a hideous popping noise as it dislocated. His cry of pain became a roar as he saw red and somehow slipped his right arm from the grasp of the demon. He used the strength of the demon holding him to push back, bringing his legs up to kick the smaller Fyarl in the chest. It flew backwards, and hit the deck. Spike then pulled his useless left arm from the demon's grip, ducking underneath its arms to throw himself on its back. He wrapped his right arm around the Fyarl's neck and pulled, his roar more animal than anything as the skin tore and he felt the demon's neck crack. It fell, directly on top of him and Spike snarled as the carcass landed, one of it's horns tearing through his jeans and into his leg. Blood pumped out of the wound, and Spike panicked that he may have nicked an artery. His game face melted away as the pain set in, and he pushed the dead demon off of him, his right hand covering the wound. Blood seeped in between his fingers, but years of checking his own wounds gave him the experience to know he had only cut a minor artery and it was not a fatal wound.

_What are you doing, you nit? A spot of violence is all well and good, but being _dead_ won't do Buffy any good._

His thoughts were distracted by the remaining Fyarl getting to its feet. He couldn't run, the pain in his leg prevented that and his dangling left arm was causing a distraction. He looked around, a fleeting through reminding him that only silver would kill a Fyarl if you didn't behead it and he didn't think he had the strength left to do that again. With no weapons, and no strength, he was certain he'd gotten himself into a situation he couldn't get out of. He struggled to his feet, grimacing at the pain.

The Fyarl growled, and then roared as it saw the body of its companion. Obviously their little tiff over dinner had been forgotten in their united front against their antagonist. It looked at him, snarling viciously. He backed up a little, holding his arm and limping heavily on his bleeding leg, wondering what in the hell he was going to do.

An idea hit him as he surveyed the surrounding area. He was in one of the quieter residential areas, and he was surprised no one had come out to see what was going on. But then, the citizens of Sunnydale couldn't be any more ignorant to what went on around them. Luckily for him, it could work in his favour.

He edged towards a fence, and raised his bad leg, knowing he couldn't balance on it. Putting all of his strength behind it, he kicked the fence, shattering it. He did the same on the other side, leaving only the supporting post. It was just small enough to grip with his right hand, and he grunted as he pulled it free, sensing the demon coming up quick behind him. He swung the post quickly, knocking the demon down, and then brought the post down on its head. The demon roared again, and Spike brought the post down again, his grip so hard on the post that it splintered under his fingers. He brought it down again, and again, and again, until the demon was a twitching mess, most of its skull and brain matter seeping into the concrete.

There wasn't any chance it was getting up again.

Spike looked around, dropping the fence post and sagging heavily, his uninjured arm supporting his injured one as he spat blood again.

Buffy was gonna kill him.

* * *

'Buffy is going to kill you.'

Giles' words echoed his earlier thoughts as he hissed under the former librarian's ministrations. Thank God the man had been home alone for a change when he'd decided it was the only course of action to ask for help. He could stitch the leg himself but he'd always struggled with putting shoulders back into sockets. Giles had taken one look at him, rolled his eyes and reached for the scotch.

'Yeah, I know.' Spike grunted as the Watcher gently pulled his left arm up to level.

'This is going to hurt.' He warned and the blond shut his eyes, nodding. 'Try not to scream. Mrs Wilson already suspects me for being odd without hearing screams in the middle of the night.'

Spike had a witty retort prepared, but he didn't get it out before Giles pushed his arm back into place and he almost passed out trying not to scream. His breathing was heaving and he felt sicker than he'd ever done in his entire life.

'Sorry.' He said in between pants. Giles grimaced and handed him a tumbler of scotch.

'You will be. What were you thinking? Being so reckless.'

'I was...' Spike trailed off, looking into the glass of liquid. 'I don't know, mate. Guess I've not been feeling myself.'

'That is understandable. This-' Giles gestured. 'Is not. You're lucky you were ripped apart. Two Fyarls? One would be bad enough. But two is suicidal.'

'I'm alive aren't I?' Spike chuckled at the double meaning of his words.

Giles rolled his eyes. 'Barely.' He reached over and pulled up the bloodied t-shirt over his left shoulder. The skin was turning black under the bruising from the dislocation. 'You're a fool. And Buffy is going to kill you.'

'She'll have to find out first.'

'I already called her.'

'What?' Spike's eyes bugged. 'What the bloody hell did you do that for?'

'You got into a fight with two dangerous demons. Because, as you put it, you were frustrated. Nothing I will say will stop your behaviour before it gets out of control.' Giles folded his arms over his chest. 'And the Summers women seem to have a particular charm in that department. Anyway, you wanted a fight.'

A furious knocking at the door made both men look over. Spike's eyes widened and went back to Giles.

'And now I've bloody got one.'

* * *

**To Be Continued...**


	5. Hell Hath No

**Disclaimer:** The work contained within is merely my playtime with the characters created by Joss Whedon and I in no way own any of them, or anything like that. Unfortunately. It sucks. But I'll just continue my plot to kidnap and clone James Marsters for myself.  
**Rated NC-17. **Just in case.

**Author's Note: **Has it been a month since I updated? Oops :( bad kitten! I do apologise. Between Download Festival (which was amazing and has inspired a new fic which I'll get round at at some point!) and my continuing obsession with Supernatural (I just finished season nine and my feels are kinda broken) I've neglected my wonderful readers. I'm hoping I can get at least one chapter a week out to you from now on, and I promise no more neglecting you!

* * *

**In Medio Ignis**

* * *

**Hell Hath No**

* * *

She'd been peacefully sleeping when the phone had rung. It had disturbed a very pleasant dream involving Spike, a sauna, and chocolate body paint, that she probably wouldn't ever have again. And after the stress of the past few months, and the sleeplessness that came with it, having a decent sleep interrupted had already started her day on a bad foot.

Finding out that the phone call was Giles telling her that Spike was badly injured because of a stupid fight he'd picked with Fyarl demons, of all things - made her mood go from bad to worse.

So when she'd practically kicked Giles' front door in and seen the state of the blond she'd left intact at his apartment only hours before, sitting on Giles' sofa with one hand clutching a damaged shoulder, covered head to toe in fresh bruises over the old ones he'd brought back with him, she'd nearly simmered over with anger. For his due, Spike was looking more sheepish than she'd ever seen.

'How stupid can you be?'

His eyes dropped to the floor as she stomped to stand in front of him.

'Seriously? I just got you back, and you what? Decide it'll be fun to be dismembered by Fyarl demons?'

Spike looked over at Giles, who promptly held up his hands and left the room, abandoning him to his fate. Spike scowled in the direction of the kitchen, and the Watcher's disappearing back, before looking back to Buffy. She was glaring at him, hands on her hips, one eyebrow cocked upward. God, she was glorious when she was angry.

Not that he was entirely enjoying being the focal point of a Slayer rage.

'Look, pet, I'm sorry. I was just...'

'What? Being an idiot? A moron? Losing all judgement and common sense? Did that demon take your brain when he made you human?'

Spike frowned. 'No! I just...this thing...I...' He sighed heavily. 'It was getting me down. All this prophecy crap, pet, it's making me feel powerless. Like to write my own destiny and then bam! I find out it's all written for us.' Buffy's expression softened and her muscles relaxed as she dropped to her knees in front of him.

'I'm sorry.' She said quietly. 'It's just...I almost lost you once. All that time not knowing...it was really hard. And I get it, the whole prophecy thing, trust me, I _totally_ get it.' She ran her fingers over his shoulder, watching him wince as she gently touched the bruised tissue. 'But this is just stupid. I know you like fighting, and I know the violence thing is a...thing with you.' Spike smirked a little at her eloquent use of the English language. 'But there's releasing tension and there's being stupid. And this?' She prodded the bruise hard and Spike yelped, looking at her with a hurt expression as his hand covered the injury once again. 'Is very stupid.'

'Okay, I get it.' Spike said, looking at her with big blue puppy dog eyes. 'No biting off more than I can chew. And no pissing Buffy off.'

'Good rules to live by, my friend.' Buffy grinned, and Spike scowled.

'Friend?' He queried and she smiled wider, crawling up to lean in his lap.

'You know what I mean.' She whispered, bringing her lips closer to his. Before it could go any further, Giles re-entered the room, clearing his throat.

'Well, obviously Spike's wounds are not life threatening. Perhaps you should take him home, Buffy? Make sure he doesn't get into any other scraps?' He turned to his desk, muttering to himself. 'Make out somewhere other than my living room for a change?'

Spike chuckled, overhearing the quiet words, and he grasped Buffy's hand tightly with his good hand. 'Sounds like a good idea to me. Fancy escorting an invalid home, kitten?'

'Invalid?' Buffy snorted as she pulled him to his feet. 'Hardly.'

* * *

They had made their way back to his apartment in relative silence, only commenting on the small issues. He asked after the others, not having seen anyone other than Giles, Buffy or her mom since his arrival back home. She answered with short sentences, but she wasn't mad at him, not really. She was just very tired. The sun was beginning to show it's face over the horizon when they approached his apartment, and at his door, he hesitated, biting his bottom lip in a manner that almost made her dribble. Just a little.

'Look, Buffy, it's late...' He smirked a little. 'Well, it's early. By the time you've walked back to the dorm, you'll not be getting much sleep, not that you'd be getting much anyway, but it's a bit of a walk, and I don't wanna piss you off more...'

Buffy reached out, taking his hand and smiling. 'I thought they just made you slightly alive, not slightly alive and a shy teenager.'

He scowled then, squeezing her hand in mock anger. 'Hey!' He pouted a little, and Buffy melted a little more. 'I was just gonna suggest that you kip here. But if you're gonna be like that -' He dropped her hand and tipped his head upwards in mock indignation. 'You can have the couch.'

She laughed, taking his keys from him and opening the door. 'I'll be sleeping in the bed, mister. With you.' She turned around, pulling her jacket off. 'But you can keep your hands to yourself. You should be punished after all.'

'And why's that?' He asked, following her into the apartment and shutting the door behind him.

'Because you've been a bad boy.' Buffy whispered huskily.

All of a sudden, it was Spike's turn to dribble.

* * *

Spike opened his eyes slowly, inhaling deeply as he squinted against the thin beam of bright sunlight coming in through his window. He could smell Buffy on the sheets, but as he rolled over, still feeling her warmth in his bed, he found it was the only part of her remaining. He frowned, sitting upright and winced as he caught his bruised shoulder. Shaking off the pain, he looked around, extending his senses beyond the bedroom.

There was no one else here.

He resisted the urge to sulk, pulling himself to the edge of the bed and swinging his legs off. As he did so, he noticed a small piece of paper on his chest of drawers, folded so it was standing upwards like a little tent. He reached over, picking it up between slim fingers and contemplating it for a moment. At least she'd left a note.

Opening it, it simply said "_Meet me for lunch, 1:30pm, campus coffee shop"_. He smiled. He wouldn't say no to that date.

He put the note back on the side, standing and throwing the sheets back onto the bed. He needed a shower, but he wasn't entirely sure what the time was. He headed into the kitchen, checking the time on the clock in his living room. He had slept in. It was nearly midday already. Campus was a half hour walk away, and he needed to get himself ship shape.

Quick breakfast it was then.

After a brief shower, he dressed, grabbing some toast on his way out the door. He decided to swing past Giles' on the way through and found him trading barbs with Xander, who seemed very perplexed by the alphabet.

'Spike!'

'Not stopping,' he puffed up a little. 'Got a hot date.'

'You meeting the Buffster at college?' Xander asked.

'Yeah, I've got some grovelling to do.' Spike's eyes flitted to Giles who grimaced and nodded.

'I'd imagine so after last night.' The librarian commented dryly.

'Whoa, man, what did you do?' Xander asked, standing from where he'd been sorting books.

'Picked a fight with someone bigger.' The boy opened his mouth to say something, then shut it and tilted his head and nodded.

'Yup, I can see that happening.'

Spike grinned. 'I've gotta go anyway. Just thought I'd drop in an' apologise for last night. I'll probably be back over later with the Slayer in tow anyway.' He tipped an imaginary hat to Giles and headed for the door. As he opened it, he found Anya stood on the other side, blinking at him. 'Oh. Hello?'

'I'm looking for Xander.'

'He's there.' Spike pointed behind himself, and then moved past the girl, who walked into the librarian's flat like she owned the place. He smirked, wondering if Xander would have his hands full with that one.

The sun was shining as he approached the campus, and he basked in it, ignoring the stares he got as he walked past people. He knew he looked like a walking bruise, but couldn't care less. Despite the fight and the resulting argument, he felt like he was on a high. Meeting Buffy would only improve his mood further.

'Oh my god, it's you!' A shrill voice made him turn, and he blinked in confusion as a blonde girl ran towards him and threw her arms around him. 'I can't believe it!'

Spike pushed her off quickly, flinching at the pain in his shoulder from her haphazard hug. 'Can I help you?'

The girl looked vaguely familiar as she pulled away, her smile so wide he feared the rest of her head might disappear. 'Well, duh! I'm Harmony. You saved my life at graduation!'

Oh. Her.

'I can't believe I'm seeing you here, are you a senior or something? You look a little old for college. It must be fate or something that we bumped into each other, don't you think?'

'Er...I...' _Oh god, someone help me._

'Spike?' Another voice had him nearly buckling at the knees in relief. 'You look...a little worse for wear.' Willow smiled as she approached with Oz, who nodded in greeting.

'Just a bit of rough and tumble, Red. Nothing I couldn't handle.' Willow's eyes flickered to Harmony in question and Spike shrugged.

'So are you meeting Buffy?' Oz asked, sensing the other man's discomfort.

Spike nodded. 'As it happens, we have a lunch date.'

'I noticed someone crawled back to the dorm very early this morning.' Willow mentioned slyly and Harmony's face crumpled as Spike grinned widely.

'I'd better get going. It was nice to see you again, Spike. Thanks again.' The blonde girl slunk off and Spike sighed in relief.

'She's...er...'

'A breath of very fresh air?' Oz supplied drolly.

'Very fresh.' Spike agreed.

'So you're meeting Buffy where?' The redhead girl asked, looking around.

'The campus coffee shop? I think I'm going in the right direction.' Spike pointed down the main pathway to the campus. Willow nodded and smiled.

'We're heading that way too, if you'd like an escort to prevent any more bimbo attacks?' She offered, and Spike smirked.

'You're a funny girl, red. Always liked that in you.' He started walking, falling into line beside the two loved up teens. 'So how was your summer? I haven't really seen anyone since I got back.'

'Uneventful. But Oz has had gigs.' She announced proudly. 'He has one in LA next week.'

'It's nothing. We're not even being paid.' Oz brushed it off.

'Still a step in the right direction right?' Spike smiled. 'Well done, mate.'

'He has a gig at the Bronze tonight. I did ask Buffy if she wanted to come, and of course you're welcome too.'

Spike nodded. 'Sounds like a good night out. She didn't mention it, but we...were otherwise occupied.'

'With her scolding you?'

He didn't reply as Willow chuckled, and the coffee house came into view. Buffy's golden hair was the first thing he picked out amongst the throng of students. She was sat with a boy who looked to be about her age, and he was talking. Buffy, for her part, looking so bored, he thought she might fall asleep in her coffee. Willow scowled and Spike frowned.

'Who's that?' He asked.

'Parker Abrams. He's a womanising wonder jerk.' Spike almost growled, and Willow smiled a little. 'Go scare him off. It'll be fun.' Spike flashed her a grin, and stalked towards his prey as Oz poked Willow in the arm.

'You shouldn't encourage him.'

'What? He's defending his territory.' She hooked her arm through her boyfriends and watched as Spike entered the coffee shop seating area.

Buffy noticed him way before Parker did, and she smiled brightly. 'Hey.' She said sweetly, and Spike smiled as he approached, leaning down to kiss her.

'Sorry I'm late, pet. Slept in a little.'

Parker watched the exchange and assessed the newcomer, with his bleached locks and muscled arms, and litany of bruises and wounds. He didn't look entirely friendly and he wondered exactly what Buffy was doing with someone like him.

'That's okay. Parker here was just keeping me company.' Buffy replied, her tone indicated that she was being anything but friendly about the boy. Spike smiled at him, resisting the urge to flash a bit of fang.

'Thanks mate. Right nice of you.'

'Er, yeah. I was just keeping her company.' Parker said, standing from the table and extending a hand. 'Parker Abrams.'

Spike took the hand and shook it, a little too firmly. 'William Pratt.' He offered and Parker pulled his hand away, cradling it a little as he glanced between the two blonds.

'I guess, I'd, er, better be going. Was nice talking, Buffy.' He turned, hurrying away from the pair as quickly as possible.

'He seemed nice.' Spike commented sarcastically.

'Oh yeah. A real charmer.' Buffy giggled and gestured to the seat vacated by the dark haired boy. 'And he was taking up your space.' Spike slid into the seat, motioning to the waitress.

'You ordered lunch already?' He asked.

'I was waiting for you, slowcoach.' She smiled at him, taking his hand on the table top, marking her territory for the women she knew would be staring. It was all very _normal._ And kinda nice. Even if she knew that in twelve hours time, they'd be prowling cemeteries for dead things. For the moment, just sitting in the sun, in a cafe, drinking coffee and eating lunch...

Sometimes it was nice to pretend...

* * *

'Did you know that _Giles_ has a TV? He's shallow, like us!' Xander said excitedly, as he placed his drink on the table. The Bronze was busy, at least in part to the masses of teens gathered for the band that had played that evening.

'What are you doing spending so much time over there lately? I thought you had your apprenticeship thing going?' Willow asked, sipping her soda. Xander nodded enthusiastically.

'Yeah, they gave me a couple of days off. They were shutting down the site because of some cave in on the highway, unstable ground or something like that. So I had to choose between sitting at home, seeing as you guys are all at college, or helping Giles organise his many boxes of crap.'

'Not all of his stuff is crap.' Oz pointed out. 'The man has some very respectable vinyl.'

'I'd agree. I would attempt to steal his copy of "The Velvet Underground" but he'd probably have me hunted down and staked.' Spike smirked as Buffy and Willow shared a look.

'Does that even work on you anymore?' Xander asked curiously.

Spike shrugged. 'Can kill anything with a stake if you stab hard enough.'

'Speaking of, what did you do with the Gem?' Buffy asked. He raised an eyebrow and she smiled. 'Don't worry, I'm not gonna send it to Angel or anything. Last thing we need is an impervious Angelus on the loose.'

'I remember Angelus.' Anya piped up. 'He encouraged some pretty respectable massacres back in the day.' The group fell silent for a moment, but Anya was oblivious to her comment. 'You did too, Spike. At one point you were the talk of Arashmahar. I mean, you were -'

'And I believe that is our cue to dance.' Xander said with a forced smile, taking the former vengeance demon's arm before she could continue. 'Anyone joining?'

'I could do with a boogie.' Willow stood as Oz took her offered hand. Which left Spike and Buffy alone at the table. She sidled up to him with a small smile.

'You okay?' She asked and he nodded, slipping his arm around her shoulders. 'You seem kinda, quiet.'

Spike shook his head. 'I'm just enjoying being home, with you.'

Buffy eyed him skeptically. 'Not contemplating any more fights?'

'Oh there'll be more fights.' He said, sitting straight. 'Just not any that are gonna get me yelled at by you. Although...' He sucked air in through his teeth and eyed her in the way that made her melt a little inside. 'You are _very_ sexy when you're angry.' He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Buffy smiled into the kiss as her arms came up to snake around his neck. For long moments they sank into each other, before Spike pulled away. 'Having to breath is probably the most irritating thing ever.'

She giggled, squeezing his hand gently. 'You'll get used to it.' She looked around to see the others on the dance floor. 'You know, we could sneak out. Do a little patrol...little bit of rough and tumble?'

Spike raised an eyebrow. 'Are you talking about slaying vampires or...' He let the sentence hang, and Buffy wiggled in her seat a little, smiling seductively at him.

'Well, I have it on good authority that you don't have a roomate, and mine has her boyfriend crashing tonight.' Spike watched her, but didn't say anything and Buffy sighed, running her hand over the front of his t-shirt. 'I'm not suggesting anything. I don't wanna make you uncomfortable and you're still all ouchy...but it would be nice to spend some...time...'

Spike smiled. 'You wanna get out of here, pet?' She nodded and he stood, pulling her to her feet. She noticed the subtle flinch as he pulled his previously injured arm. She didn't say anything, not wanting to ruin the good mood that had so far only improved throughout the evening. He smiled at her, one of the genuine smiles he reserved only for her. 'Let's go have some fun huh?'

* * *

**To Be Continued...**

* * *

I think this chapter's mostly filler...lol I'm hoping to have another one up soon guys. I'm not overly happy with this chapter, but seeing as The Harsh Light Of Day doesn't really work into my version of things...I hope you'll understand. Even if you review to tell me it's crap, let me know!


	6. Yet One Remains

**Disclaimer:** The work contained within is merely my playtime with the characters created by Joss Whedon and I in no way own any of them, or anything like that. Unfortunately. It sucks. But I'll just continue my plot to kidnap and clone James Marsters for myself.  
**Rated NC-17. **Just in case.

* * *

**In Medio Ignis**

* * *

**Yet One Remains**

* * *

It was going to take some adjusting to, this waking up next to a living, breathing, warm body. But watching him sleep was worth it. His bare chest rose and fell in an almost haunting rhythm, and occasionally he let out a breathy moan, or a muttered word that made her smile. He was on his side, facing her, almost snuggling into the pillows. Saying he looked cute would be like swearing at the Queen or something, and she'd never tell him so.

They'd found two fledges arguing over a drunk fraternity pledge on the way home and it hadn't taken much to dispatch them. It hadn't taken long for them to give up on the hunt and head back to Spike's. Buffy smiled as she thought back over the events of the night.

_The door crashed open loudly and Buffy giggled as Spike shushed it before slamming it just as loudly and returning his attention to her. Between breathless kisses, he pushed her back towards the bedroom, every touch and caress filled with urgency. He felt like a man starved, hungry for her in ways he had never felt before. Buffy felt it too; the stirrings of fire in her stomach, butterflies smashing into her skin as she tried to be everywhere at once. She wanted to possess him; own him, like no one had, as selfish as it sounded, she doubted he would have cared._

_His kisses became breathless as he struggled with the still new sensation of breathing and Buffy smiled as she pulled back, kissing her way down his neck to his collar bone, feeling him sigh as she reached the hem of his t-shirt. She contemplated pulling it over his head for a moment, before ripping the material down the middle._

_He didn't protest in the slightest as her mouth returned to his skin, kissing a path down his chest to his stomach, over his abs and navel, her slim fingers resting on the top of his jeans. He was panting now, sweating almost, his eyes black with desire._

_'Thought you wanted to wait.' She said slyly, and Spike growled, grabbing her arms and pulling her up. His dark eyes flashed yellow as he pushed her against the bedroom wall, smashing his mouth to hers again. They devoured each other for long moments before needing to draw breath again, and Spike almost put his hand through the wall in frustration. Buffy smiled, cupping his cheek in her hand. 'Calm down. It's only human.'_

_'I'm not human.' He half-whispered, half-growled in return. She knew he hated weakness in himself, and this was troubling him._

_'You'll adjust.' She whispered, kissing the side of his mouth gently. 'Besides, I have to breath too.'_

_He smiled then, kissing her again, with less urgency, savouring the taste and feel of her. 'God, Buffy. Love you so much, kitten.'_

_'I love you, too.' She said, gasping as he drew back, his eyes wide at her words. She smiled at him, running her hand down his bare chest. 'I wanted to tell you for so long.'_

_He didn't seem to be able to form words as he gaped at her. She smiled, waiting for him to react. He leant forward, resting his forehead against hers. 'If I could lose my soul, Buffy, you would have just done it.'_

_'You were never meant to suffer, Spike.' Buffy whispered, her hands running over his skin. 'Now stop talking and kiss me.'_

_In a matter of moments, he had her on the bed, kissing a path down her stomach as she arched into his touch. His fingers slipped under the waistband of her pants and she arched higher, anxious to pull the offending clothes off, but he held her down with hand, keeping her in place. He hadn't lost any of his strength in his transition, and whilst she was more than a match for him, at this moment, she didn't want to be. She wanted to let go...give over all control..._

And boy had she. She ached in all the right places, and she was still basking in the afterglow. A couple of hours was the most sleep she normally took. The sun was just beginning to filter in through the blinds, and she would take the time to appreciate the sleeping form of her lover in the sunlight. The bruises from his fighting were almost faded now, and he hadn't said anything or given anything away to suggest he had been in pain. She longed to ghost her hand over the injuries, just to check them, but she was too afraid to wake him.

It was a rare thing to see Spike so still. He was always moving, never static. Even now he wasn't completely still.

Buffy jumped when he reached out for her. She allowed him to pull her back down to him and snuggle into a spooning position, skin on skin. She had a couple more hours before classes and she was more than happy to stay where she was.

* * *

'You look...chipper.' Willow remarked as Buffy sat on her bed, staring into space. The Slayer blinked a few times, then looked at her best friend, who was towelling her hair dry.

'Oh. Do I?'

Willow nodded, then narrowed her eyes. A few seconds passed, and her mouth fell open. 'You...you have afterglow!'

'What?!' Buffy said, half panicked and half innocent. Willow threw the towel to the floor and moved to sit next to Buffy.

'You and Spike! You have afterglow! Oh my god! Details. Now. Not graphic. But, spill missy!'

Buffy looked bashful for a moment then giggled. 'Yeah. We did.'

'Oh my god!' The redhead squealed. 'Finally! You've been strung out for too long!'

'Hey!' Buffy objected. 'I wasn't that strung out.'

'You were a little. So, come on. We noticed when you snuck out of the Bronze last night. So what happened?'

'We patrolled. Went back to his apartment...things got a little, er, heated?' The Slayer blushed. 'I told him.'

'That you, ya know, have the whole undying love thing for him?'

'Well, not quite that dramatic. But you shoulda seen him, Wills. It was like someone had handed him the sun, moon and stars.' She stared into space happily. 'Then this morning, he cooked me breakfast. I woke up next to him and he was still there.'

'And that's all a girl really wants, huh?' Willow ribbed gently and Buffy returned the ribbing with a very, very soft punch. Which still made the witch wince.

'It is.' Buffy fell backwards onto the bed. 'I don't wanna go to class. I just wanna lie here and...bask.'

Willow giggled. 'Well, you have to go to class. Your mom isn't paying tuition for you to knock boots with Spike.' Buffy blushed again.

* * *

The day had floated by like he was on a cloud. He couldn't stop smiling. It had taken a while for him to drag himself from the bed, too busy surrounding himself with her scent to care about the outside world, but then he remembered that he had no food in the house and he had to sort out the rest of the things he'd been neglecting since he came back. Like finding something to do with himself during the day. Although he was fine for money, it wasn't much of a life to sit around waiting for Buffy to finish college every day, and he wasn't much for the sitting on his arse life. But then, he wasn't sure if a job would be the right route to take either.

So he had only one option. He had to get some advice. And there was only one man he would trust.

When Giles had opened the door, Spike had grinned broadly and marched inside, ignoring the slightly confused look on the Watcher's face. 'Alright, Rupes?'

'You're in a good mood.' Giles observed, closing the front door and turning to the former-ish vampire.

'I had a very good night's sleep.' Spike said, a slight hint of tease in his voice. 'Fancy a cuppa? I saw you had some PG Tips lying about the other day.'

'Certainly. You know how I take mine.'

With a nod, Spike headed into the kitchen, switching the kettle on. He would have preferred the old fashioned kettle that went on a stove, but the electric ones were usually the easiest course of action in a country that believed more in coffee than a traditional Earl Grey. PG Tips, however, was one type of tea that he loved. The adverts with the monkey weren't too bad either, if he channelled his inner Xander.

'So, you slept well? You certainly look better than you did yesterday?'

Spike nodded. 'I'm healing nicely. Although, I've started supplementing my intake with a small amount of blood. Apparently whilst I'm "mostly" alive, my demon still needs a little extra.'

'Interesting.' Giles looked towards his desk. 'I've not uncovered any more on the prophecy.'

'Well, I'm at a loose end today. I can give you a hand with that. Still trying to figure out what to do with myself, if I'm honest.'

'You are always welcome here. I could use the help.'

Spike's mouth set into a thin line. 'As much as I'm grateful for the offer, Rupes, I think if I sat here looking at books day in, day out, my brain would probably fry. I was thinking about looking for a job but there's not much in the way of employment for an ex-vampire, who's still got a demon and has no recent paperwork. Although the paperwork issue wouldn't be much of a problem. Except for the fact that all my qualifications would be dated four centuries ago. That could pose a problem.'

Giles chuckled. 'I can imagine. Well, we can have a look at your options later. Right now, I have a tricky Latin passage that needs translating and I know you can be of more help than Xander.'

'You drive a hard bargain, Rupes.' Spike grinned. 'Maybe a day in the books with help me focus.'

* * *

Buffy had been walking on air all day. She breezed through her classes and even managed to ignore the tacky Halloween decorations going up all over campus. There was nothing that could ruin her good mood today. Not even Riley and his earnest attempt to ask her out. She'd been too distracted to rebuke him properly, but she thought she'd probably gotten the message across.

When classes ended, she'd been all geared up to rush over to Spike's apartment and jump his bones again. But Willow had cornered her, and her plans had been foiled.

'Hey Buffy.' The red head greeted her with a smile. She was sans Oz for the time being, and Buffy smiled, trying to be irritated at her friend. She didn't mean to stall quality Buffy and Spike time after all.

'Hi Wills. No Oz?'

'No, he has band practice.' Willow smiled. 'I wanted to catch you before you headed off for Spike snuggles.'

Buffy smiled slyly. 'Busted. I have a few minutes.'

'Well, Oz and I got an invite to a party. At Alph Delt. It's a whole scary maze thing, and the party is in the middle. Looks like fun?'

'Would this be Halloween fun? Cos I'm still not quite over Lady Buffy of Buffonia.'

'Look, Halloween is dead for the dead right? You and Spike have had major stress lately. You're starting to relax, but parties? Opportunity for naughty groping in the shadows?'

Buffy pouted. 'Yes, but we could do that at home. In his bed. Watching Great Pumpkin. With oodles of candy.' She drifted a little and Willow frowned, clicking her fingers at her.

'Come on, Buffy. You missed nearly every party in the summer cos you were all mopey. Spike's back. Spike's alive. You're all gushy with the happiness. Frat parties are part of the college package. Spike won't mind, and he'll want you to go.' She smiled. 'I promise, it will be fun!'

The Slayer contemplated it. 'I'll ask Spike.'

'Yes!' Willow pumped her fist in the air and Buffy frowned.

'He might not wanna go.'

'Buffy, Spike won't want you missing out on this. Trust me. He'll practically _make_ you go.'

* * *

'You want me to come to a frat party?'

'If I said "there will be beer", will that help?'

Spike eyed her curiously. 'I'm not sure. By all means, you go. Enjoy the college thing. I think I'm a bit too old for that, pet.'

'You're too old for everything, Spike.' Buffy smirked and he scowled at her.

'I'll show you old.' He tackled her to the sofa, playfully nipping at her neck as he pressed her into the leather. Buffy shrieked and giggled loudly, pushing at him in mock horror as his long fingers found her sensitive ribs. She struggled, half heartedly, not needing to put any effort into it. Just having him touching her was enough to make her feel flushed.

Before too long, the tickles turned to caresses and her giggles became moans as she writhed underneath him. His hands wandered, and he trailed kisses down her neck, across her chest, pushing the thin blouse she wore to the side, trying to get more access. Buffy moaned, then put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him backwards off of her.

'As nice as this is...' She panted a little as he tried to come back closer, his eyes lidded with desire. 'You're distracting me.'

He sighed. 'Yeah. I am.'

'What's wrong?' She said concerned.

'Nothing's wrong.' He smiled, taking her hand and pulling her up into a seated position. He settled in next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close. A sigh escaped him as he began to draw lazy patterns with his finger on her bare shoulder. 'Just been talking to Rupert all day and been nose deep in stupid books concerning these prophecies, and I'm...'

'Tired?' Buffy made a mock noise of horror. 'You truly are human. Mostly.'

Spike smirked. 'Maybe. But Giles and I were talking. And I need to do something with myself. I can't sit around researching demons all day waiting for you to call.'

'You mean, you don't want to be my willing slave?' She asked, as if she was hurt. He smiled.

'I'll always be that, kitten, whether you want it or not. But I need a little more than that to my day. Maybe a job.'

'A job? Like what?'

'Haven't got that far yet.' He looked down at her. 'And now who's changing the subject?'

'I didn't distract you with kisses. I distracted you with genuine concern. And I'm still waiting for an answer on the party.'

'Do I have to dress up?' Spike asked warily. 'Because I don't do costumes.'

'No. I mean, I don't even know if I'll bother. With the whole becoming-your-costume thing a few years back...I don't know if I could handle that again.' Buffy shuddered and Spike chuckled.

'Could always dress up as Xena.'

'Are you showing an inner perversion there? Cos I think you share that one with Xander.'

'No. I was just suggesting. Dress up as someone tough like. How about Lara Croft?'

'Is that an inner perversion?' Buffy asked and Spike tilted his head in consideration.

'She does have fantastic tits.'

'Spike!' A small Slayer powered fist caught his leg and he laughed loudly at her indignation. 'Hers are bigger than mine.'

'I said hers were fantastic. Yours however, are perfect.'

'Pig.'

'Oink oink.'

* * *

It had taken a few hours, but she'd managed to "convince" Spike to come to the Halloween party. He'd been unrelenting on the subject of a costume however, and she had let him take over with the "convincing" her that he didn't need one.

She accepted it in the end. But her task of convincing Spike had caused a rather late night, which had led to a tardy appearance at classes, and that had led to having to crawl to Professor Walsh for her assignments. The woman had been scathing towards her, which had left Buffy a little bristled; a fact she'd then taken out on Riley when he'd again approached her.

'She means it you know.' He was doing that goofy half smile that he seemed to have permanently plastered to his face. She kinda wanted to punch him, but knew he was just being friendly. She downgrading her urge to punch with a sarcastic response.

'Yeah, I got the impression she wasn't saying it to make me laugh.'

Riley didn't seem to pick up on her tone and the half smile remained. Her fist twitched. 'You've got to be aware your work's taken a little downturn lately. I can't remember the last time I saw your hand up.'

'Does stretching count?' She replied, turning as if to walk away. The overbearing TA followed her movements, and Buffy groaned inwardly as he blocked the exit.

'Things can get pretty intense freshman year, as I dimly recall. Too much fun, or not enough?' Her thoughts immediately went to Spike and she smiled before she could stop herself. Riley looked a little confused and carried on with his speechifying. 'Well, you just gotta keep your priorities. Professor Walsh is worth your time.'

'I'll do this stuff tonight.' Buffy looked down at her papers, the lie slipping out easily. Riley caught it, and frowned.

'It's Halloween. You're not gonna dress up and party?' She didn't reply and he carried on again, taking her silence as permission to continue. 'Look, I may be out of line here; it's not my business, but you seem like the kind of person who makes things hard on themselves. Halloween ain't a night for responsibility. It's when the ghosts and goblins come out.'

'That's actually a misnomer -'

Riley chuckled. 'Well, I didn't mean real ones. But there's some good scary fun to be had on campus tonight.'

'What are you doing?' She asked curiously, seeing as he didn't look like he was getting up to go jiggy down at any point.

He looked a bit sheepish as he gestured to the desk. 'I'm gonna sit here and grade papers.'

'Scary.'

'Very.'

'Well, thanks for the pep talk… coach.' She tried to keep her tone away from mocking, but it seemed to seep through.

'Don't make fun. I worked long and hard to get this pompous.'

Buffy felt bad then and she looked up at him, trying to appear friendly.

'No. I mean it.'

'Welcome.'

* * *

**To Be Continued...**

* * *

Wooo, Spuffy lovin'. Well, I'm gonna try to get some more work done on this by the end of the week. If I can dodge my increasing Supernatural obsession. I've moved onto fanfic for that now, only reading so far but having some ideas...


	7. Caution Killed The Cat

**Disclaimer:** The work contained within is merely my playtime with the characters created by Joss Whedon and I in no way own any of them, or anything like that. Unfortunately. It sucks. But I'll just continue my plot to kidnap and clone James Marsters for myself.  
**Rated NC-17. **Just in case.

* * *

**In Medio Ignis**

* * *

**Caution Killed The Cat**

* * *

Buffy swung the basket in her hands as she waited on the front porch for Spike. She'd swung by to see her mom, who'd dug out her old Red Riding Hood costume. They'd reminisced a little, and her mom had reassured her about things and now she was waiting to see what sort of outfit Spike had chosen to wear for the night. After lengthy discussion, the group had decided on characters that would be able to look after themselves, after the fiasco from Halloween two years previous. Spike hadn't been around for that, but he'd chuckled plenty when he'd been told about it.

'What's in the basket little girl?' A husky voice came from behind her and she turned, finding Spike and Xander stood there, wearing identical suits.

'Weapons.' Buffy smiled innocently.

'Oh.' Xander grinned sheepishly.

'Just in case. Like the tuxes.'

'We thought Reservoir Dogs was a good bet. And Spike makes a pretty good Mr Blond.' Xander chuckled as Spike shrugged.

'It was his idea. Although, I think the original Mr Blond was a bit bigger.'

'It's insurance in case we turn into our costumes again. We can be awesome and scary.'

'Or you could be waiters.' Buffy pointed out and her best friend's posture shrunk a little. Spike smirked and moved to put his arm around Buffy as they began to walk down the street.

'There's Willow and Oz.' Xander pointed out with a smile. The red head and her werewolf boyfriend approached with smiles of their own. Willow was dressed in a suit of armour and chainmail, but Oz didn't look like he had a costume on.

'Will. Medieval Will.'

'Hail, ye olde, vareletty, thou.'

'I'm Joan of Arc. I figured we had a lot in common, seeing as how, I was almost burned at the stake, and plus she had, that close relationship with God.' Willow gushed a little. Her best friend nodded and turned his gaze to Oz who was dressed in his usual jeans, t-shirt and overshirt.

'And you are?' The guitarist's expression didn't change as he pulled his shirt to the side and exposed his name tag that simply said "God". Xander nodded and made a face. 'Of course. I wish I'd thought of that before I put down my deposit. I could have been God.'

'Blasphemer.' Oz said with his usual stoic tone.

The bushes in front of the fivesomerustled and a couple of commando guys slipped into sight, their faces covered and guns in their hands. They looked like they were on the prowl as they moved past.

'Nice costumes. Very stealthy.' Buffy pointed out, smiling up at Spike with his arm draped around her shoulders.

Willow frowned. 'What are they supposed to be?'

'NATO?' Oz suggested as Xander cleared his throat.

'Oh, yeah, I, ah, invited Anya to join us, but she's having some trouble finding a scary costume, so she's just going to meet us there.' He missed the red head rolling her eyes at the mention of the former vengeance demon. Buffy reached over and squeezed her best friends hand.

'We're going to have the best time.'

* * *

As the group approached the house, kids ran past screeching. Spike winced from the loud noises, and Buffy smiled at him as he eyed the house apprehensively. She knew he was only doing this for her. If he had his way, they'd be indulging in her plan of bed, snacks and The Great Pumpkin. But upon entering the house, he smiled back at her and embraced her a bit tighter.

'The joint's not jumping.' Xander grimaced. 'Where is everybody?'

Mechanical laughter echoed throughout the hall, and a head with one eye hanging from its socket was on a table in a punch bowl. Oz pointed at it and looked back at the others. 'Follow the signs.'

Buffy looked down at the head. Spike chuckled. 'Terrifying. If I were Abbott and Costello, this would be fairly traumatic.'

Willow laughed a little as she walked through a doorway and straight into a cobweb. She shrieked and grabbed at it. 'Uh, ah!' The web came off with several frantic pats. 'Okay, that part was realistic.'

'Frat boys aren't too obsessive with their cleaning. Might not be decoration per se.' Oz commented dryly. A cupboard burst open and a plastic skeleton with a knife swung out, making Xander jump backwards a couple of feet. He panted as he looked at the others with embarrassment.

'I wasn't scared. I was in the spirit.'

'And we back you up on that. Even if they question us separately.' Willow smiled, as Oz glanced over at her. She followed his gaze and the slight widening of his eyes to her shoulder, and screamed as she saw the tarantula on her shoulder, moving slowly towards her face.

'Get it off!' Oz jumped forward, removing the spider and Buffy shivered in sympathy for her friend.

'It's gone.' Oz said, pulling Willow into a hug.

'Okay, that is not sanitary.'

'Yeah. How about we get to the party part of the party?' Spike said, looking over at Buffy. His hackles were rising, and he wasn't sure of this place. Everything in him, including his demon, was screaming that he should have stayed home. Willow was still panicking about the spider, even though Oz was reassuring her, but the group moved on. Buffy stopped when they reached the next room, bending down to poke at a spot on the carpet.

'I thought this led to...' Oz trailed off, looking around with confusion written across his normally unemotional face.

'What is it?' Xander asked Buffy.

'Blood.' She said, holding out her hand to Spike who sniffed and nodding in confirmation. 'Real blood.'

'Okay, actual creeps have been given.' Xander said, then cupped his hands around his mouth. 'Bravo, frat boys!'

'Shh! Do you hear something?' Spike asked. Buffy frowned.

'Like a squeaking noise?'

'Oh, it's these rented shoes, patent leather. I asked the guy to...' Xander was interrupted as Willow raised a hand.

'No, no, I – wait. It's something else. I hear it, too. Something like...'

All five of them looked up as the noise got louder. The ceiling was covered with bats. Live bats. Willow screamed, and the whole group dropped to the floor as the bats left the ceiling and flew through the corridor. When they were gone, Spike picked up a bat that was left on the floor and threw it to Oz. Willow shrieked a little.

'No, Oz, don't it might be-'

'Rubber. It's made of rubber.' Oz turned the fake bat over in his hands.

'What the hell is going on here?' Buffy muttered.

'Look, maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's just a neat trick. You know, something done with wires or...' Xander paused as a voice rumbled through the house.

_Release me._

Xander paled. 'Or it might be something else.'

* * *

The creepy screams and sound effects were becoming irritating and over the top as they moved through the house. Eventually the group came full circle back to the stairs at the front of the house. But the stairs were gone and so was the door.

'Where is the stairs?' Xander asked, quickly followed by Willow asking the same question of the missing door.

'This is the way we came in, right? We just went in a circle?' The noises went off suddenly as Oz flicked a switch. Spike sighed heavily.

'Thank the lord.' He threw Oz a grateful smile and the werewolf nodded.

'You're welcome.'

'Hey, I have a neat idea,' Willow nodded enthusiastically. 'Let's get out of here.'

'And you were so anxious for us to come.' The Slayer said with a hint of tease.

'I'm serious Buffy, we don't know what we're dealing with.' Willow said, panic lacing her tone.

'My turn. Does anyone hear that?' Xander said, raising his hand.

No one replied to him as Buffy frowned. 'As soon as we start dealing with it, I'll know what it is we're dealing with. Do you hear something?'

'Like I said. Sounds like a hissing.' Xander confirmed.

'It's like a "sssss" noise.' Buffy said and Xander looked at her with a frown.

'I thought the word hissing kind of covered that nicely.'

Buffy didn't reply as she moved along the corridor, her senses on alert and Spike close to her back. It was odd, she thought then, that she could still kinda _feel_ him; as if her tinglies were still picking up a vampire but they were almost dumbed down. But what usually had her on edge around regular demons, only made her feel comforted in this instant. He always had her back.

The hissing noise sounded again and she moved towards a closet door, fully prepared for anything that might jump out. But the only thing inside the closet, was a terrified looking guy, rocking back and forth, his hands covering his head as he muttered to himself.

'I'm sorry, I didn't know. I'm sorry.' His voice was desperate and plaintive as he keened

Oz pushed past her then, moving to the guy in the closet, crouching down in front of him. 'Chaz?'

'I didn't know.' The guy said, barely acknowledging the werewolf.

'What's happening?' Oz's voice was gentle as he reached out to his friend. Chaz rocked back and forth, back and forth, the intensity growing with every repetition.

'It ah...' He gasped and Buffy frowned.

'What is it?'

His breath was coming heavier as he finally looked up and saw them, his eyes wide with terror. 'It's alive. It's alive!'

Her frown only deepened at his words, and all eyes were on the terrified guy in the closet. 'What's alive?' The Slayer questioned, as Chaz's eyes went even wider as he seemed to look beyond them.

'He's in shock.' Xander commented, but no one replied.

'Chaz, what happened here?' Buffy asked again, and then jumped slightly as Chaz let rip an agonized scream. Everyone turned as the previously plastic skeleton from down the hall came at them, slashing it's knife downwards towards Buffy. Spike yelled, and she dodged just in time, sending a punch in it's direction and aiming a kick to the midsection. The skeleton fell to the ground, plastic again. Everyone stared at it, until Buffy turned her head to check her shoulder. The knife had slashed a hole in her cape and gone through to her shoulder, leaving a thin trail of blood behind. 'I think the cape took most of it.' She said, smiling up at Spike reassuringly. He ghosted his hand over her shoulder, his concern visible on his face.

'Let me see.' Xander said, reached for his friend, but she turned as Oz peered at the injury.

'Could need stitches. You should at least get a bandage or something.' A female scream echoed through the house, and everyone looked up, except for Chaz, who squirrelled back into the closet and shut the door. 'Cowering in a closet is starting to seem like a reasonable plan.' Oz surmised.

Buffy looked over to where the closet was, seeing the wall sealed and the door gone. 'What closet?' She noted. 'I'm gonna make my way upstairs and see if there are any people there.' She decided, turning to the others with a grim look of determination on her face. 'You guys find a way out of the house and use it.'

'You're telling us to run away and leave you behind?' Willow said, an edge of panic to her voice. Spike shook his head.

'She won't be alone, Red.'

'And I have my basket of fun.' She pulled a crossbow free from said basket. 'We need help. We need the only person that can make sense of what's happening.' Willow frowned and Buffy stared at her. 'You know, Giles? Yay tall, usually has his nose in a book, panics in a very British way?'

'We can't just leave you and Spike. We don't know what's going on here.'

Buffy sighed. 'Will, I'm telling you...'

'You're telling me? You're telling me?' The witch's voice got higher with every second.

'I can't do my job if I have to worry about each of your safety.'

'It's not your decision.' Willow argued and Buffy put one hand on her hip in annoyance. Spike and Oz backed up, wary of intervening.

'Got to disagree with you there.'

'Oh of course you do.'

Xander stepped forward, holding his hands up. 'Let's all take a breath. Buffy, maybe -' He was cut off by Willow scowling.

'Being the Slayer doesn't automatically make you boss. You're as lost as the rest of us.'

'What are we talking about?' Oz asked, confused as to where the argument had sprung from. He knew Buffy was right; finding Giles was the best course of action, but Willow seemed angrier than usual about Buffy's need to protect them.

'It's a simple incantation, a guiding spell for travellers when they become lost or disorientated.' Willow said slowly.

'And how does it work?' Buffy asked, her worry about magic increasing. Willow's mouth set in a thin line as she regarded her best friend.

'Conjuring.' The Slayer stated. 'Will, let's be realistic here. Okay, your basic spells are usually only fifty-fifty.'

'Oh yeah? Well, so is you face.' Buffy blinked at the retort, as Willow turned on her heels and began to storm off.

'What?' She blinked again and then chased after her friend. 'What does that mean?' Willow whirled on her, her face screwed up in indignation.

'I'm not your sidekick!' The redhead stomped off, and Oz moved past Buffy, thundering after his girlfriend. Buffy sighed heavily and turned to Spike, who shrugged in confusion.

'Well, that was a bunch of laughs.' Xander quipped, as the Slayer walked past him and back to the basket of weapons she'd set on the floor. Spike picked it up for her, ever the gentleman. She gave him a grateful smile as Xander moved closer. 'Look Buffy, we are all tired and a little edgy. Maybe Willow is over reacting. I'm sure part of it is because of how you've been all _involved_ girl lately.' Buffy picked up the crossbow, nether her or Spike acknowledging him. 'But not is not the time to let that stuff tear us apart.' She turned, brushing past him. 'What I'm saying is, I'm right with you. You and Spike. Right by your side. I'm -'

Buffy frowned, looking around and then to Spike.

'Where's Xander?' She asked.

'Funny how you still haven't lost your sense of inappropriate humour.' Xander quipped, looking to Spike for backup. Spike shrugged and looked around.

'He was here a minute ago.' The blonde said and Buffy frowned again.

'Knock it off. Skit's over. I'm right here.'

Buffy made a noise similar to a growl under her breath and began to stomp off, Spike following her. 'This is so _typical_ of him!'

Xander paused, his brain trying to catch up to the situation. 'Typical?'

'Xander!' Spike called, followed by Buffy calling again. Their voices were getting quieter and Xander frowned.

'Buffy!' He yelled, running to catch up.

* * *

Xander had disappeared and Buffy was fuming. Spike didn't dare say a word to her as he followed her through the house, which had somehow become a giant maze. He'd never felt a house so creepy, but it didn't feel haunted. There was heavy magic in the air, making his hackles rise on end. Buffy didn't seem to notice it, but she was getting more and more pissed by the second.

Willow's voice echoed through the halls, and Buffy took off into a dead run, silently cursing her friend for being so stubborn all of a sudden. She bolted through a door, and Spike, a couple of seconds behind her, made to follow her through, but the door slammed shut and he hit it with force, cursing as his nose encountered the wood and he felt something split. He fell backwards onto the carpet with a thud, feeling the trickle of blood on his chin.

Another busted nose.

This was just fantastic.

'Buffy?' He called, holding one hand to his nose as he used the other to push himself up off of the floor. She didn't answer. 'Buffy!' He called again, feeling panic rise inside him. He didn't like this feeling; being alone, unable to get to her.

Her scream sounded through the wood and then the door disappeared, leaving a brick wall in it's place. Spike's eyes widened at her pained cry and he threw himself against the blockade, pounding his fists against the door until they were bleeding. 'Buffy!' He shouted, desperate to get to her. The wall shifted, and a shelf popped out from nowhere, throwing him backwards. He fell beyond the floor and landed with a grunt, banging his head on compacted earth.

Opening his eyes he looked up, seeing that he'd landed in a rectangular hole, sheer walls of earth on either side. A rain of dirt began over his head as he began to gasp for air, panicking beyond anything he'd felt before, nausea rising in his stomach as he struggled to get to his feet under the onslaught of dirt. He jumped, the sides of the grave were just out of his reach, and it was filling quickly, threatening to bury him alive. He cried out as the earth tried to swallow him, grasping the side tightly, using all his strength to pull himself from the grave.

He landed back on the carpet, gasping for air as he blinked dirt from his eyelashes. He turned, seeing that the grave was gone and the carpet was all that was left.

What the hell was that? Spike had always hated graves. He'd hated waking up in the dark when he was a kid, and he'd always been terrified of not being able to breath. The worst sensation about this humanity crap was that he had to use his damn lungs. Drowning, suffocating, things of nightmares.

Is that what the house wanted? To literally scare them to death?

Buffy screamed again, distracting him from his own panic, only for worry and concern to take its place. 'Buffy!' He yelled, but her scream was coming from all around him. He ran back down the corridor, everything a blur as he tried to follow the sound of her screams, her scent anything, but nothing was working right and he couldn't pinpoint her, and he was panicking again, his breath coming in short spurts as he desperately traversed the corridors looking for his Slayer.

'Buffy!' His voice was pure desperation now, and he turned again, seeing her, finally, running towards him. But as she ran, a whizzing noise passed him and something hit her, in the chest, directly in the heart. She hit the ground like a ton of bricks and he raced to her, gathering her up in his arms, crying out her name. He turned her over, running his hands over her face, her open eyes, finally down to the crossbow bolt lodged in her chest. Blood soaked through the little red riding hood outfit and she stared up at the ceiling, unseeing, unmoving, _not breathing._

He'd failed her.

He wasn't fast enough.

Not good enough.

He'd killed his Slayer.

* * *

**To Be Continued...**

* * *

I'm so mean. I apologise.


End file.
